Meet the Reinforcements
by 100yearoldWhiskey
Summary: Six new classes are introduced: two for Offense, two for Defense, and two for Support. While the RED team isn't happy about it at first, they begin to make friends with the new recruits. It's now time to Meet the Rocketeer, the Assassin, the Outlaw, the Weatherman, the Femme Fatale, and the Bodyguard. Now includes updated info on all six classes (and a revised Introduction).
1. Introduction (REVISED)

**Note: Since the original Introduction (Prologue) is admittedly poorly written, I've decided to revise all of it.**

* * *

Introduction (REVISED)

Nazir kept the radio on as he drove alone in the desert. He had followed directions carefully ever since he first set foot on American soil. He had only one thing on his mind: whether he would succeed or not in becoming a permanent member of Reliable Excavation Demolition. He spent the entire morning looking for the exact destination. He squint his eyes as he noticed a small human figure in the far-off distance. As he drove closer towards it, it became clear that the figure was a beggar with worn-out clothing. People would be a bit confused why a vagabond would be out in the middle of the American desert, alone with no shelter. But Nazir had been informed about him before his trip into the silent wasteland, and he knew what he had to do. He pulled over to the side of the road and stopped right beside the beggar.

Nazir opened his car window and said, "One, two, buckle my shoe."

The beggar gave a nod and pulled out a walkie-talkie from his pocket. He turned it on and said, "We have another applicant coming in."

A female voice in the radio replied, "Good, send him in."

The beggar put his walkie-talkie away and told Nazir to follow the trail of cacti away from the asphalt. It would lead him to his destination.

Nazir thanked the supposed beggar and drove off on an unpaved path, following the strangely shaped cacti. It led him into the bottom of a deep chasm. He stopped at a large gate on one side of the gorge. Nazir spotted a surveillance camera on the top of the gate. He smiled and waved, hoping to notify anyone that would let him inside. The gates opened, and Nazir drove inside. He didn't stop smiling, because he grew more confident that he would never fail to become a mercenary for Mann Co.

* * *

Jason and Yvonne visited the reception desk. The plump receptionist wore glasses and had brown hair. She asked, "Are you applying for a position in Reliable Excavation Demolition?"

Jason replied, "Yes, we are."

The receptionist gave a little grin. "Are you two married?"

"Of course, not! We're siblings."

"That's good. You scared me for a second."

"What?"

The receptionist handed them two clipboards with pieces of paper and two pens. "Take the questionnaires and hand them to me when you're finished."

Jason and Yvonne turned around and observed the waiting room. It appeared to be the size of a dining room in a casual restaurant. There were chairs placed in the middle of the room. People apparently from all over the world had taken seats. Jason pointed at two vacant chairs in the corner. He and Yvonne sat down and began answering multiple-choice questions on the questionnaire. Most of the questions centered on war, politics, and voracious appetites. During the process, Jason observed the people in the waiting room. Men and women from France, Greece, Korea, Mexico, and other foreign countries had taken seats. The front entrance opened and in walked what looked like a Saudi Arabian man. He headed for the reception desk before Jason looked back down on his questionnaire.

It took several minutes to complete the entire questionnaire. Jason and Yvonne finished almost simultaneously. They handed the clapboards back to the receptionist and sat back down in the waiting room. Yvonne turned to see a strange-looking man sitting on the other side of her. He waved at her, and she waved back almost timidly.

He asked, "Did you find the questions pretty hard?"

Yvonne replied, "The only questions I couldn't understand were the ones about politics and geography. I'm not really good that those type of things."

The man laughed. "I couldn't understand everything else."

An awkward silence ensued. Yvonne asked, "So where are you from?"

"I'm from a city called Riverside, in California."

"Is that so? My brother and I are from Los Angeles."

"Oh, lovely weather over there. And the sea gulls look nice as well."

"…You've visited L.A.?"

"Never in my entire life."

Yvonne cleared her throat. "So what did you used to do when you arrived here?"

The man gave a huge smile. "I used to be a magician."

"What kind of tricks do you do?"

"I split hares. I also make tadpoles disappear in my mouth."

Yvonne kept quiet after that.

* * *

Miss Pauling asked for an applicant to visit her office one at a time. When it was time for Nazir to visit her, he knew that he just had to be himself. He sat at her desk and answered her questions carefully. She asked him simple questions regarding his place of origin and former occupations. When he mentioned being a personal bodyguard for the emperor of Saudi Arabia, Miss Pauling wanted to know more about his life in the kingdom. He gave clearer details about being a bodyguard and why he was exiled from his home country. Miss Pauling asked if he still had the ability to protect those who are in need of supervision. With a grin, Nazir replied that he would do whatever it takes to protect those around him.

* * *

At noon, the several dozen applicants were led in a dark auditorium with a projector screen on the wall. Shane suspected that everyone would be watching a movie, or perhaps a documentary on Mann Co. He took a deep breath and readied himself for a few hours of cinema. Miss Pauling explained that the applicants would watch a Hollywood movie, and if they were courageous enough to stay in the theater, then they would be accepted for the next round.

"That's just great."

The Hispanic man sitting next to Shane folded his arms across his chest and frowned. Shane asked, "You don't think you'll make it out of this theater alive?"

"I think we're just wasting time watching a movie. We should just get on with the next round."

"Maybe they're testing out patience or something."

"If that is the case, I'll pass it right away. I am usually a patient man."

"Just not right now?"

"…Perhaps I might have to pray."

Shane chuckled. "Whatever fits you, sir. By the way, my name is Shane."

"I'm Miguel."

They both shook hands.

The theater darkened even more. The title card appeared on the projector screen. The applicants would be watching _The Five-Headed Cyclops of Wilshire Boulevard_.

That certainly caught Jason's attention. "What do ya know? We're gonna watch one of our movies."

Nazir asked, "Did you make this movie?"

"My sister and I used to be a part of the studio that made it."

Miguel asked, "Care to tell us what this film is about, my friend?"

"I think the title should give a little hint. It's a Cyclops that wrecks havoc in L.A., and that's about it."

Shane felt suspicious. "And why did they choose this film?"

Yvonne replied, "Maybe because the critics hated it."

The movie started.

* * *

Just ten minutes later, the applicants ran out of the theater, screaming. They raced back outside and drove off into the desert. Miss Pauling expected it to happen, seeing as how _The Five-Headed Cyclops of Wilshire Boulevard_ didn't even count as an actual movie, with its poor special effects and lame dialogue. Miss Pauling took a peek at the theater, and found a total of six applicants still sitting as the movie continued. But they didn't have their eyes on the screen. They had shifted their focus on two Hollywood siblings who shared their own experiences in a film studio. A Native-American man covered his mouth with his hand, trying to hide his laughter. A Middle-Eastern man fell asleep and now snored. The two siblings, who were of Mongolian descent, seemed to enjoy themselves as they talked about their attempt for true Hollywood glory. Their inattention toward the movie gave Miss Pauling enough sense to bring the survivors into the next round.

* * *

The six applicants sat in a different waiting room, much smaller than the previous one. They got to know each other. Jason and Yvonne had a prolonged conversation with Miguel, a man from Argentina. Nazir and Shane discussed matters concerning their homeland. And a Sri Lankan woman that goes by the name of Victoria just sat still without saying a word. She didn't even look at the people sitting next to her.

Miss Pauling called them up and led them into what looked like a clinic. She had a doctor (or rather a Medic) standing beside her. She said, "This is our trustworthy Medic. He's going to examine you for the next few minutes. If we see that you're in perfect health, or just below perfect, then you will make it to the final round."

Medic gave them eye exams, dental checkups, and even tested for allergic reactions. However, he had some trouble with Miguel. The Argentinian lit a cigarette with a lighter, which was attached to the barrel of his personal pistol. Medic asked him to put it out, since this room was a non-smoking area.

Miguel narrowed his eyes and pointed the barrel of his gun at the German. "_Never_ try to stop me from smoking."

Thankfully, Miguel didn't shoot Medic.

* * *

All six of them passed the test, meaning they were very close to becoming real recruits for RED. The RED Soldier gave them a speech involving tactical methods and firepower.

"If you don't care about your weapons, then you don't care about the battlefield!"

He and the applicants readied themselves for the training center.

Soldier watched as the six applicants participated in target practice. They used real pistols with real bullets on mannequins forty feet away. Jason, Yvonne, and Shane seemed to have struggled a bit with their aiming. Miguel, Victoria, and Nazir had no problem with their accuracy.

Next, they used shotguns against mannequins. Soldier was impressed with their precision. But something immediately caught his attention. Nazir had a shotgun in one hand, and a fried turkey leg in the other. He devoured the turkey leg even as he pulled the trigger several times. He didn't even have his eye on the mannequin, and he still made excellent shots. Soldier didn't even bother where the turkey leg had come from.

Later on, he had to motivate them as they ran through an obstacle course. They climbed ropes, crawled through pipes, and jumped over Sticky Bombs that Demoman had planted on a portion of the floor.

And then, it was all over. They had passed every test necessary to become permanent members of RED. They met up with the Administrator, who visited them in the training center. She congratulated every single one of them for devoting themselves as becoming fresh recruits.

"Now, all you have to do is pick your weapons."

She showed them the company's arsenal. The recruits had been allowed to pick two weapons each. Nazir had his eyes on an Automatic Shotgun, while Miguel focused on the explosive artillery. Shane admitted that he didn't want any of the weapons in the arsenal, and that he would rather build his own weapons from scratch. Administrator didn't mind his reluctance, and allowed him to start construction very soon. Victoria picked up an AK-47 from one of the tables. She gave a brief glance at the Administrator and gazed back at the weapon in her hands. None of the other candidates knew about Victoria and Administrator's relationship that originated in Siberia. They might as well keep it that way. Meanwhile, Yvonne selected Dual Pistols and a collection of arrows as her weapons of choice. Jason noticed a jetpack that looked just like the one in his car.

"Maybe I should compare the two."

Administrator asked about his jetpack, and he replied, "It's from Hollywood. It still works, though the batteries are kind of low right now."

Administrator rubbed her chin. "Let me see if you know how to fly."

Jason smiled. "All right, then."

Later on, they selected their choice of clothing. Jason had his mind on a jumpsuit, Yvonne wanted to try out a vest, Shane wrapped a red-colored shirt around his waist, and Nazir could not find himself a turban (much to his bitter disappointment).

* * *

On the very next day, the new recruits moved in with the expert mercenaries. They carried their boxes into the bedrooms and settled in their new environment. Jason and Yvonne found a few mercenaries in the lounge. Engineer, Demoman, and Sniper watched a nature documentary on TV.

All Jason and Yvonne could say was, "Hi."

Engineer, Demoman, and Sniper had their eyes on the TV screen as they looked rather lethargic. "Hi."

Jason asked, "What are you watching?"

The Scotsman answered, "It's something about a Polar Bear and a Walrus."

"Is it good?"

Engineer replied in a monotonous tone, "It's good."

Demoman and Sniper agreed by simultaneously saying, "It's very good."

Jason and Yvonne didn't know what to say next.

Yvonne cleared her throat. "So when's the next battle?"

"_Mission begins in ten minutes_!"

The Administrator's announcement on the PA system gave Engineer, Demoman, and Sniper a sudden bolt of energy. They turned off the TV set and ran out of the lounge, screaming.

Jason and Yvonne looked at each other. This would be their first battle in Dustbowl.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes, I am. Are you?"

"Yes, I am."

They gave each other small grins and joined the others for a confrontation against Builders League United.

* * *

"_Mission begins in five minutes_!"

The fifteen RED mercenaries visited the barracks. Before the official battle, they began to know each other. Nazir and the Heavy shook hands and spoke of their place of origin. Shane asked about the Engineer's productive skills, and a prolonged discussion followed. Yvonne spotted the Scout giving her an enticing glance, but she ignored it. Demoman wanted to know more about Jason's life in Hollywood. Miguel complimented Pyro on his powerful Flamethrower, and the latter gave a thumbs-up. Victoria didn't have time to talk to anyone else on the team. All she could think about was defending every Control Point in Dustbowl.

"_Mission begins in sixty seconds_!"

The doors opened, and the RED mercenaries raced for the other side of Dustbowl. They readied for battle while the gates for the BLU team still didn't open.

Jason asked, "So how do you even survive here?"

Soldier gave a grin. "You're going to find out pretty soon."

"_Mission begins in ten seconds_!"

Rocketeer, Assassin, Outlaw, Weatherman, Femme Fatale, and Bodyguard joined the other mercenaries for their first confrontation of the day.

"_Five…four…three…two…one_!"

TO BE CONTINUED...


	2. Meet the ROCKETEER

Note: This new class is my own idea. Everything about his info is made up by me. The original classes, however, belong to Valve.

* * *

Meet the ROCKETEER

STARRING:

Randy (Engineer)

Boris (Heavy Weapons Guy)

Donald (Demoman)

Ludwig (Medic)

Jean-Philippe (Spy)

INTRODUCING:

Jason (Rocketeer)

* * *

"Where the hell is my jetpack?"

Jason looked everywhere for his sole possession in the fortress. He searched for it in the barracks, in the kitchen, in the towers, and even in the enclosed boxes that stood in the corners. His jetpack couldn't have just disappeared. The last time he saw it, he put it on top of his bunk bed. When he couldn't find it anywhere else, he decided to have a little chat with his new friends.

Outside, near the train tracks, he found Boris, Donald, Ludwig, and Jean-Philippe talking amongst each other while staring at the sky. This made him curious. He cleared his throat and, in a clean American accent, asked, "What's going on?"

Ludwig the Medic looked like he was hiding something. "Oh, nothing. Ve are vaiting for our turn."

"Your turn for WHAT?"

At that moment, something fell from the sky, but it didn't land on the ground. It flew past the train tracks and went back up into the sky. Jason recognized the man who had the jetpack strapped on his back. Randy the Engineer appeared exhilarated as he flew all around the fortress.

"YEE-HAA! I'm lovin' it!"

Jason yelled, "What the hell is he doing with my jetpack?"

Ludwig replied, "Don't you worry, he just vants to fly."

A few minutes later, Randy landed on his feet and turned off the jetpack. With a smile on his face, he said to Jason, "Boy, this is somethin' that's really special to me."

Jason asked, "What the hell do you know about it? You've only had it for five minutes."

"That's true, but I've really learned to love it. Where'd ya get it?"

"I got it from Hollywood."

"Fancy little prop, this is."

"It's not a prop…technically, it's something that the government tried to perfect. But they failed, so they gave up on it and sent it to us so that we could make our sci-fi movies with it."

"So it's a prop."

"…Whatever you say."

Ludwig raised his hands. "It is time for me to use it now."

Jason blurted, "Now, wait a minute! This thing isn't used for fun. It's primarily used for battle. Having your own jetpack is serious business."

Randy replied, "Son, I can see that this thing is important to ya. So I'll make a little offer."

"What kind of offer?"

"Let's say that Hollywood is runnin' out of ideas. They don't have the passion and energy to make films like _Casablanca_ and _Dr. Strangelove_. It no longer has the star power to survive, and it shuts down for good. But suppose you bring a little redemption to Southern California."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"My buddies and I have plenty of stories to tell. You can write the script, you'll send it back home, producers will be excitin' again, and you'll become one heck of a millionaire."

"That sounds almost impossible…but it also sounds quite enticing."

"But first, we'll have to make a little compromise."

"And what's that?"

Donald the Demoman replied, "We give you the movies, you give us flying lessons."

Jason whispered to himself, "This ought to be interesting."

* * *

For the next half hour, Ludwig, Donald, Boris, and Jean-Philippe took turns in flying in the air. Much to their surprise, the jetpack was rather hard to handle.

Ludwig found himself struggling to keep composure as he flew in the air. He looked terribly nervous as he kept dodging walls and trucks. For a time, he screamed. "I'm getting sick!"

Jason felt a bit amused that the Medic himself was immersed in fright. But then, Jason was amazed when Donald took his turn. Before his feet even separated from the floor, the Scotsman had taken a few sips from his bottle of "scrumpy." Now, as he flew up in the air, he appeared as drunk as a lazy beaver. He looked like he laid his back on thin air. Even worse, he sang "Amazing Grace" at least twice. In the end, however, he crashed into a wall and dropped to the ground like an anvil.

Boris the Heavy Weapons Guy didn't fare much better. In fact, he couldn't even lift himself of the ground. Even when the jetpack went into full mode, he couldn't move. With his arms crossed, Jason stared at Boris's feet, which didn't even flinch. Then, he looked up and saw a tear sliding down the Russian's cheek.

Jean-Philippe the Spy made a mocking cackle as he flew through the air at waist level. As he smoothly soared past the rest of the group, he crossed his legs and placed his hands on the back of his head. He truly looked as if he lay down on an invisible hammock. "Gentlemen? Huh-huh-huh-huh."

Jason shook his head in disbelief. Jean-Philippe looked so casual when he used the jetpack. He probably must've used one before.

* * *

Jason examined his jetpack after the supposed flying lessons were over. "It's a good thing that this didn't die off already. I'd be out of a job."

Randy asked, "Do you need any gasoline?"

"I don't need any. This jetpack runs on batteries."

Jean-Philippe re-adjusted his tie. "That was such a refreshing experience, I do say."

Boris frowned. "I feel nothing but shame."

Jason almost chuckled. "Then buy yourself some vegetables."

As he put on his helmet, Randy uttered, "Tell me somethin', Jason. What's it like workin' in Hollywood?"

"Oh, it's just like any other career in good ol' America, except fame and fortune ALWAYS matter."

Boris asked, "What made you join our team?"

"To tell you the truth, I wanted a little adventure. After writing script after script after script of low-budget material, you get tired afterwards. Not even the women and the beaches can bring it up a notch."

Randy smiled. "Well, you've come to the right place. There's plenty of action goin' on around here."

Suddenly, Jason spotted something in the distance. "And judging by that Payload cart that's heading this way, I don't think I have a reason to complain."

The men turned their attention at the other side of the railroad tracks. Members from the BLU Team began to push a cart towards their intended destination.

Randy blurted, "Ah hell! We got company!"

Donald brandished his grenade launcher. "Arm yourselves, men!"

Everyone prepared themselves for battle. Jason strapped on his jetpack and said, "This is gonna be good."

Jean-Philippe loaded his revolver. "But first, please tell me that you accept our offer."

Jason put on his sunglasses. "Don't worry. I won't let you guys down."

He brandished his weapon: a STEN submachine gun. As soon as his new friends charged at their enemies, Jason turned on his jetpack. He flew up in the air and headed towards the Payload cart.

When Boris fired his Minigun and Randy ran straight ahead with his shotgun, Jason found himself right on top of the Payload cart. The BLU Team focused on the Medic, Engineer, Demoman, and the Heavy Weapons Guy. Jason's friends became good distractions. He pulled the trigger, and fast-moving bullets fell from the sky. Members from the BLU Team took direct hits and collapsed on the ground. They didn't even know what hit them. As Jason reloaded, a couple of BLU soldiers looked up and spotted their attacker. They fired their rocket launchers at him, but he easily dodged them by strafing in the air. He fired his weapon again.

But then, his jetpack began to overheat. He knew what he had to do. As he turned off his jetpack and descended onto the dirt floor, he switched from the STEN to a pump-action shotgun. He completely annihilated a Sniper with an SMG. A BLU Scout was about to squeeze the trigger of his scattergun, but Jean-Philippe stabbed him in the back (in the disguise of a Pyro). The Scout screamed in pain and finally dropped dead on the floor. The RED Team became victorious.

Jean-Philippe gave Jason a smile. "You've done well."

Jason chuckled. "Thank you. You're too kind."

* * *

And so the day after the skirmish, Jason began to take notes on the stories from the RED Team. Unfortunately, he grew tired of that as well. The stories didn't seem to make a lot of sense, especially Ludwig's tale of confronting three dozen Spies with just one syringe, and Boris's of eating fifteen sandwiches in one sitting. In the end, however, he assumed that these stories would give Hollywood a jump start if it experienced a crisis of derivative filmmaking. He was still glad that he joined the fortress, and he hoped that he saw more action.

TO BE CONTINUED…

* * *

_**INFO**_

ROCKETEER

First Name: Jason

Age: 24

Race: Mongolian

Place of Origin: Hollywood, Los Angeles, California

* * *

Health: 135

Job: Offense

* * *

Appearance: Clean shaven, short hair, sunglasses (on and off)

Clothes: Overalls, gloves, jetpack strapped behind back

* * *

Running Speed: Quicker than Demoman, but slightly slower than Spy

Weakness: Like the Scout and Spy, the Rocketeer as low health

* * *

Primary Weapon: STEN (submachine gun)

Ammo: 40 out of 160 Rounds

Damage: 13 to 20 per round

Crit Damage: 26 to 34 per round

Pro: Very high accuracy

Con: Relatively slow reloading

* * *

Secondary Weapon: 12-Gauge Shotgun

Ammo: 6 out of 32

Damage: Up to 110

Crit Damage: Up to 240

Pro: Very effective at close range

Con: Not very effective at long range

Additional Information: This shotgun is standard. It's the same one that Pyro, Heavy, and Soldier possess.

* * *

Melee Weapon: Tire Iron

Damage: 75

Crit Damage: 180

* * *

Specialty: Jetpack

Lifespan: Forty seconds before overheating

Additional Information: When using the jetpack, the Rocketeer will fly high up into the air, so much so that he'll be able to fly over rooftops. He can even land and walk on rooftops. Also, when the jetpack overheats, the Rocketeer will drop down on the floor. He will lose up to 50 Health when landing on his feet at a high distance. Finally, the jetpack will turn on and off when using the "Jump" button. This means that the Rocketeer cannot jump in a normal matter, as the "Jump" button will automatically activate the jetpack.

* * *

_**Unlock/Drop/Purchase/Craft**_ Items

Secondary Weapon: Hand Grenade

Ammo: 3 in Total

Damage: Up to 120

Crit Damage: Up to 245

Pro: Deals high damage to enemies

Con: Low ammunition

Additional Information: The Hand Grenade is only thrown at a far distance. It can't be thrown a few feet in front of you. Plus, the Hand Grenade has a 1 1/2-second delay before it explodes on impact.

* * *

Primary Weapon: Uzi (submachine gun)

Ammo: 30 out of 150 Rounds

Damage: 19 to 29 per round

Crit Damage: 33 to 41 per round

Pro: Deals greater damage to enemies than STEN

Con: Very low accuracy

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Spy-O-Vision Sunglasses

Ammo: None

Damage: None

Crit Damage: None

Pro: These sunglasses allow you to see through the disguise of an enemy spy.

Con: Since this is very useful against enemy spies, it will be very hard to unlock: a total of 40 Rocketeer achievements. It cannot be purchased or dropped. It can be crafted, though items will be rare and hard to find.

* * *

Specialty: The "Low-Rider" Jetpack

Lifespan: Six seconds

Information: While it is not intended for flying, this jetpack allows you to sprint much faster than usual (slightly faster than Scout). It helps whenever you're cornered by enemies, or rushing towards a control point. This item can be either unlocked or dropped.

* * *

Coming up next:

Meet the ASSASSIN

Meet the OUTLAW

Meet the WEATHERMAN

Meet the FEMME FATALE

Meet the BODYGUARD


	3. Meet the ASSASSIN

Note: Again, this class (including her info) is created by me. The original classes belong to Valve.

* * *

Meet the ASSASSIN

STARRING:

Simon (Scout)

Howard (Sniper)

Jean-Philippe (Spy)

INTRODUCING:

Yvonne (Assassin)

* * *

There she was, sitting on top of the windowsill. She fixed her gaze at the setting sun as the radio played a Nancy Sinatra song that had something to do with women and boots. She tapped her fingers on her thigh to follow the musical rhythm.

Simon the Scout drank his soda as he sat at the dinner table. Yvonne the Assassin was at least twenty feet away from him, so he assumed that she couldn't hear what he was about to whisper in the Sniper's ear.

"Do you think I've gotta shot?"

With a cup of coffee in his hands, Howard the Sniper whispered back, "You're not gonna show her your baseball cards like that last recruit, are you?"

"What am I? A kid?"

"Not if you throw them away."

"No way in hell!" Simon took a sip of his soda. "This time, I'm doin' somethin' different. I'm just gonna have a little chat."

"That's what you should've been doing the last time."

"Hey, come on. At least give some support, will ya?"

"But what makes you think she'll like you? She's from Los Angeles, while you're from Boston. Don't you think there would be drastic differences between the two of you…like basketball, for example?"

"I'm willing to put that aside."

"Even if your team loses by fifty points?"

Simon began to shutter. "Please do not exaggerate things like that."

The song on the radio ended. Simon stood up from his seat and smiled. "Now, Howard, watch me make an impression."

Howard murmured, "Hopefully an everlasting one."

"I heard that."

Another song played on the radio. Simon recognized the band as the Beach Boys, but he had forgotten the title of the song. He cleared his throat and Yvonne looked up at him. He smiled and said, "Hi there, Yvonne. Nice sunset we're havin' out there."

With a clean American accent, Yvonne said, "Sure. I'm sorry. I forgot your name."

"My name is…uh…" He stood frozen for a moment until he ran towards Howard and whispered, "I forgot my name. What is it?"

Howard replied, "Bride of Frankenstein?"

"…Very funny."

"It's SIMON."

"Thank you very much." Simon ran back to the windowsill where the Assassin sat calmly. "It's Simon."

Yvonne replied, "Nice to meet you. You're the one with the scattergun, right?"

After a moment of silence, Simon ran back to Howard and asked, "What kind of weapon do I use?"

Howard smiled. "Your singing voice."

"Now is not the time to criticize me for my hidden talent."

Howard shook his head. "Bloody hell, Simon, I've never seen you so nervous before."

"Well, I gotta tell ya the truth…I've never met a woman from Hollywood before."

"She's not a celebrity. Her family owns a small film studio. They make all those god-awful B-movies for a living."

"But still…I've never met someone from Hollywood before."

Howard chuckled. "Look, don't think about where she came from. She's just like every other woman you tried to flirt with…only this time, she might be the one for you."

"Yeah…I guess you're right."

Simon fought through his anxiety as he walked valiantly toward Yvonne once again. She stood up from the windowsill and asked, "Is there anything wrong?"

"Nah, I'm just a little thirsty right now. Ya want some soda?"

"Sure."

Simon grabbed two cans of soda from the fridge. He handed one to Yvonne. But then, when she grabbed hold of the can, her index finger touched Simon's own. Simon noticed this as well. They stared at each other for quite some time. It looked like love at first sight.

Yvonne whispered, "You look handsome."

Simon replied, "Yeah, I know."

Howard rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe how quick the two fell in love with each other.

* * *

For the next few days, the Scout and the Assassin remained attached to each other. When it was time to eat, they ate together. When it was time to prepare for battle, they loaded their weapons together. And when they ran through the battlefield, they stuck together. One time, during the afternoon, Simon borrowed the Engineer's guitar and sang a little serenade to Yvonne. This didn't exactly please the other team members since they had to listen to Simon's ghastly singing voice for thirty minutes. Yvonne, however, seemed to have lost her sense of hearing because she told the young man that she adored his musical performance.

At night, Simon examined her arsenal. A stack of small arrows had been kept inside her locker. Unfortunately, he carelessly played around with one of them, leading to a little cut on his right thumb. He suddenly began to feel woozy. Yvonne entered the room just in time to warn him that the arrows had been dipped in poison. She gave him an antidote as the only cure for his dizziness and blurred vision. They argued about how he should have never played around with her weapons. But several minutes later, they laughed. Howard the Sniper couldn't understand what had just happened. This couldn't have been the exact definition of love: he had been divorced twice and this sort of thing never happened at home.

* * *

As the sun disappeared behind the distant mountains, Simon and Yvonne sat on a ledge and watched as the afternoon sky made a smooth transition into the darkness of night. Howard watched them from a distance. He, along with Jean-Philippe the Spy, leaned against a wall. Jean-Philippe smoked a cigarette, while Howard held his cup of coffee.

Howard sighed. "I don't understand it. All he did was hand her a can of soda. Three seconds later, they fall in love."

Jean-Philippe remarked, "Love is a strange little thing."

"I just hope he doesn't do anything stupid."

"Your prayers have NOT been answered." Jean-Philippe pointed at the Scout, who played a few notes on the guitar again.

Howard brandished his sniper rifle. "I bet you twenty dollars that I can hit that bloody guitar."

Jean-Philippe smiled. "It would be better if you hit the one who's playing it."

TO BE CONTINUED…

* * *

_**INFO**_

ASSASSIN

Real Name: Yvonne

Age: 20

Race: Mongolian

Place of Origin: Hollywood, Los Angeles, California

Family Relation: Younger sister of Jason (Rocketeer)

* * *

Health: 125

Job: Offense

* * *

Appearance: Long black hair, slim body

Clothes: Black pants, white undershirt, Red/Blue-colored vest

* * *

Running Speed: Moves slightly slower than Scout

Weakness: Just like the Scout, the Assassin has low health. Plus, her arsenal is rather lightweight than what the rest of the classes possess. She has no explosive weapons and no heavy artillery. However, her superb aiming skills make up for it.

* * *

Primary Weapon: Dual Pistols

Ammo: 12/12 out of 72 Rounds

Damage: 17 to 25 per round

Crit Damage: 28 to 36 per round

Pro: Very high accuracy

Con: Relatively slow reloading

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Poisoned Arrows

Ammo: 5 in total

Damage: 8 to 14 every one second (total of 11 seconds)

Crit Damage: 15 to 23 every one second

Pro: Gives enemy blurred vision and wobbly movement for 11 seconds

Con: Mildly slow reloading/low ammunition

Additional Information: Poisoned Arrows are discharged from a small crossbow attached to her arm. Plus, if an enemy is hit, damage can be prevented by picking up health packs and such, but blurred vision/wobbly movement will remain.

* * *

Melee Weapon: Medieval Mongolian Spear

Damage: Up to 140

Crit Damage: Up to 225

* * *

_**Unlock/Drop/Purchase/Craft Items**_

Secondary Weapon: Poisoned Darts

Ammo: 8 in total

Damage: 6 to 11 every one second (total of 15 seconds)

Crit Damage: 14 to 20 every one second

Pro: Gives enemy blurred vision/wobbly movement for 15 seconds

Con: Mildly slow reloading/low ammunition

Additional Information: Poisoned Darts are discharged from a bamboo stick. Like the Poisoned Arrows, if an enemy is hit, damage can be prevented by picking up health packs and such, but blurred vision/wobbly movement will still linger.

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Pistol & Medieval Mongolian Shield

Ammo: 12 out of 72 Rounds (Pistol)

Damage: 17 to 25 per round

Crit Damage: 28 to 36 per round

Pro: Shield protects Assassin from hit-scan weapons

Con: Shield does not protect from direct hits of explosive weapons, though damage will be moderate. Also, the weight of the shield makes Assassin sprint a little slower.

Additional Information: Pistol ammunition is from the original Dual Pistol ammunition

* * *

Primary Weapon: Dual Revolvers

Ammo: 6/6 out of 48 Rounds

Damage: 19 to 27 per round

Crit Damage: 28 to 38 per round

Pro: Deals greater damage to enemies

Con: Less ammunition than Dual Pistols

* * *

Primary Weapon: M1 Garand Rifle

Ammo: 8 out of 40 Rounds

Damage: 21 to 30 per round

Crit Damage: 33 to 44 per round

Pro: Deals greater damage to enemies

Con: The rifle has lower accuracy than the Pistols, and the player cannot manually reload

Additional Information: This American weapon is straight from World War II and the Korean War

* * *

Coming up next:

Meet the OUTLAW

Meet the WEATHERMAN

Meet the FEMME FATALE

Meet the BODYGUARD


	4. Meet the OUTLAW

Note: In this chapter, a character gives a monologue that deals with strong adult themes. Readers are warned. Plus, this class (including his info) is created by me. The original classes belong to Valve.

* * *

Meet the OUTLAW

STARRING:

Troy (Soldier)

Kyle (Pyro)

Randy (Engineer)

Dennis (Demoman)

INTRODUCING:

Miguel (Outlaw)

* * *

"Ah, that's just great!"

Randy the Engineer never thought a day like this could get any worse. A flat tire was the worst thing that could happen during a day of delivery. He and his friends were on their way back to base, when all of a sudden, a shot at bad luck took effect. Now, they found themselves stranded on the road, in the middle of the forest. It would have been easy to replace the flat tire with a spare one, but unfortunately, room had to be made for the entire shipment of boxes. Now, they could do nothing but stare silently at their hopeless transit.

Kyle the Pyro shook his head in frustration. "Mmhm-mmhm-mmhmh-rrr."

Randy sighed. "You said it."

Troy the Soldier put on his helmet. "Suck it up, ladies. The fort is just a few miles away. All we have to do is walk."

The truck slightly rattled, and Miguel, one of the new reinforcements, jumped off of the vehicle with one of the boxes. With a pure Latino accent, he stated in his deep baritone voice, "We can't leave our precious items behind."

Randy replied, "It's just food and water. We'll pick it up when we get another truck."

Miguel still held the box in his hands. "Oh, there is something else that's quite useful. You see, I ordered five boxes of ammunition for myself. Since all of you rely on bullets and rockets, I had to purchase my own ammo."

Donald the Demoman asked, "Aren't you the one who uses an AK-47?"

Miguel shook his head. "No, that is somebody else. I use…well, I shall explain later. Right now, we MUST take these boxes back to the fortress."

Troy crossed his arms. "And who do you expect to help you with that?"

"There are a total of five boxes. We are a group of five. So logically, we must carry one each."

"Oh, so now YOU'RE the one who will tell us what to do? You're not even from this country."

Randy laid a hand on Troy's shoulder and said, "Watch it now. He might threaten you with his nightstick."

Miguel replied, "It's not a nightstick. But anyway, we must take these boxes back to the fort."

"You're really desperate to protect your ammo. This must be serious. All right, we'll help."

Troy blurted, "Stop acting like you're betraying our forefathers, Randy! WE'RE supposed to be the ones who tell others what to do."

Randy murmured, "And what ARE we supposed to do?"

Troy casually picked up another box from the truck. "We take these boxes to the fort."

Miguel asked, "Where is it?"

"It's on the other side of the forest."

"I'm a lover of nature, so it won't be such a challenge."

Troy narrowed his eyes. "Oh, but you don't know anything about this forest. There are malicious beasts and spirits that can't wait to tear our flesh."

Miguel whispered in Randy's ear. "What is he talking about?"

Randy responded, "In his own words, 'communist chipmunks and French-Canadian stoners'."

"I've heard about the French-Canadians, but now I'm interested to see a chipmunk with a hammer and sickle."

Randy, Troy, Donald, and Kyle began to carry one box each. With a shotgun strapped behind his back, Troy led the way into the forest. He knew the place very well. He, along with Miguel, fought against cruel nature which was, in his case, a slow-moving river and a small cliff that had to be climbed. This seemed to be more of a soothing nature trail to Miguel than a challenge. But when a squirrel began jumping on tree branches, Troy pulled out his shotgun and fired one round right through the squirrel's torso. The miniature mammal exploded, and guts flew everywhere.

Miguel cleared his throat. "It was only a squirrel."

Troy exclaimed, "It had the look of a New York vegan."

Several hours later, Miguel noticed that the sun was about to disappear in the horizon. "Troy, we have been walking in these words for five hours. Please don't tell me that we're lost."

Troy yelled, "Never dishonor your leader! And besides, we're not lost."

Randy took a look around. "I think we've been walking around in circles. You see that boulder next to that tree? I think I've seen that at least four times now."

"Don't be alarmed. I've brought a map along with me." Troy laid his box on the ground and pulled out a folded map from his pocket. He showed it to Miguel and Randy.

Randy took a good look at the map, and made an absurd discovery. "Troy, this is a map of Antarctica."

Troy looked at the map himself in silence. He finally remarked, "I was _wondering_ why it didn't look like the States."

Donald sighed. "Bloody hell! Here we are carrying these bloody boxes and the Soldier thinks he's in the South Pole. Sorry, but there are no penguins for you to skin alive."

Troy yelled, "You just made an enemy for life, Cyclops!"

Miguel raised his hands. "Let's not argue with each other. It's going to be dark soon, so let's camp here for tonight."

"Very bad idea, Mindy."

"It's Miguel."

"Whatever. We can't set up camp. This forest is infested with creatures that will do anything to have us for dinner."

"You mean those 'fascist butterflies' that you stomped on half an hour ago?"

"That's just one example of aggressive wildlife."

Randy shook his head. "Miguel is right. We're gonna have to move on in the morning."

Kyle asked, "Mmhm-mmhm-mmhm-rrrrrr-mmmmr?"

"Well, since we obviously can't use a telephone in these here woods, our friends back in the fortress are gonna have to keep worryin' about us until we meet them again."

Everyone placed their boxes on the dirt floor. Donald asked, "So, Miguel, what exactly are in these things?"

"Half of them contain bottles of liquor, while the other half-"

Donald's eyes suddenly lit up. "Did you say 'liquor'?"

Miguel blurted, "They are NOT for drinking, my friend!"

Randy smiled, "I think I'm gettin' a little thirsty myself."

"These bottles are important to me. They are a part of my ammunition."

Donald asked, "What do you do with them? Pour a little whiskey on an enemy Spy or something of that sort?"

"You shall see later on when we enter the battlefield. But for now, keep these boxes closed."

* * *

Unfortunately, Miguel didn't know enough about these mercenaries. A few hours later, he decided to take a piss away from the campgrounds. When he returned, he discovered a horrific sight. Three of the boxes had been opened, and the Demoman had drunk almost all of the bottles of hard liquor. Empty bottles lay scattered on the dirt.

"You fool!" Miguel wanted to punch him in the face, but Donald was so drunk, he began to sing a traditional Scottish ballad out-of-tune and out of focus. He danced around the campfire while Miguel picked up the only unopened bottle from an opened box.

"You imbeciles! I told you that these bottles were important to me!"

Troy shrugged his shoulders. "You can't object to a Scotsman and his Jack Daniels."

"It's not Jack Daniels. It's freshly made alcohol from my home country."

"Mexico?"

"No, Argentina."

"…Never heard of it."

Miguel began to clean the unopened bottle with a handkerchief. "It's in South America, my friend. My entire family was born and raised there."

Donald collapsed on the floor and remained unconscious due to his high blood alcohol level. Randy played a few notes on his acoustic guitar and asked, "Miguel, what's it like living in Argentina?"

"It is a dream, a voluptuous realm of genuine paradise."

"Sounds fun. But something's been botherin' me lately."

"And what is that?"

"Why do they call you the Outlaw? Did ya sleep with a politician's daughter or what?"

Miguel sat down on a boulder. "It began when I was young. My father, my uncle, and I used to steal from the rich and keep our rewards for ourselves. When the government discovered our unlawful activities, they had my father and uncle executed. Since I was only a teenager, they kicked me out of my hometown. You see, I was born in the city of Mendoza with thievery injected into my blood. I had to seek a different life in Buenos Aires when I was forced to accept exile. But then, the people of Buenos Aires knew who my father and uncle were, and they didn't possess the will to help me find a job of my own. Fortunately, two years later, a beautiful woman by the name of Isabella provided me with money, food, and shelter. In return, I helped her sell ammunition to underground organizations all over South America. I enjoyed my occupation, but I thoroughly enjoyed her company. Several months later, I became her lover. She was thirty-eight years old, and I was nineteen. Our long and unforgettable nights of passion have been stapled in my memory.

"But all of a sudden, our bliss had been shattered when members of a certain underground militia kidnapped us. They demanded to know why the government discovered their truth. They blamed us for the federal investigation of their activities. Isabella and I told the truth: we didn't know anything about their conflicts. But they didn't believe us. My life was completely destroyed that night. They tied my hands and feet together, and I watched four militia members rape her one at a time, right in front of my own eyes. She tried to break free from their sexual urges, but their grips were too powerful. Exhaustion and enemy aggression took a hold of her. They extended her misery by feeding her to a pack of jaguars…while she was still alive. She died as the felines devoured her flesh. It angered me so much that these men didn't see the truth. I lost my temper. I escaped from their lair, but not before executing the man who demanded that my dear Isabella be punished. I ran away from my home country. I became a genuine Outlaw. I stayed in Venezuela for the rest of my life. I sold gunpowder for those who needed it the most. And now, here I am.

"In my 44th year of permanent existence, I provide assistance in either protecting intelligence or defending against a bomb on a cart. Sometimes, I remember the good times with my dear Isabella. But then, I remember the pain and suffering. The memories never fade."

Randy had heard nothing like this. "I'm sorry to hear about your girlfriend."

"Do you mind if I borrow your guitar, my friend?"

"Nah, not at all."

When Randy handed him his guitar, Miguel noticed a little hole near the strings. He pointed at it and asked, "What happened here?"

Randy replied, "Aw, it's nothin'. Scout wanted to sing. Sniper didn't like it. The end."

"Is it still playable?"

"It sure is, buddy."

After he briefly warmed up, Miguel began to play a traditional Argentinian melody. It sounded like slow-moving Tango. Miguel stayed fixated on his musical performance. He had played the acoustic guitar since his teenage years, and not even in his current residence did he want to give up the beauty of his native compositions.

When he finished playing the unknown song, Kyle asked, "Rrrrrr-rrrrr-mmhm?"

Miguel replied, "The other boxes contain another weapon of mine."

"Mmhm-mmhm?"

"They have to be detonated with this." Miguel pulled out an ordinary lighter from his coat pocket. "My uncle gave this to me when I was a little boy. I knew that this would become a part of my life one day. And now I'm putting it to good use."

Randy asked, "What's inside the rest of the boxes?"

"One word: dynamite."

Kyle gave a thumbs-up. Troy rubbed his chin. "We've been looking for someone who could use a little dynamite around here."

Miguel asked, "What about Donald? I thought he was supposed to be the man who would use it during battle."

Troy waved off his comment. "It has something to do with a two-weapon limit. You don't want to know about it."

* * *

Two more hours passed, and the five men fell asleep on the dirt. The campfire had become the only source of sound as force of silence dominated the entire forest. But a distant twig snapping caused Miguel to open his eyes. He sat up and tried to listen carefully to what caused the snapping. Then, he began to hear whispering. He stood up and shook Troy out of his slumber.

"What the hell is it?"

"Shh!" Miguel whispered, "I think we have trespassers coming our way."

That was enough for Troy to feel wide awake. He brandished his shotgun and followed Miguel away from the campsite. They followed the whispers. And then, they found their enemies. Troy and Miguel hid behind a large tree. Troy took a peek of the group of seven BLU mercenaries who whispered to each other. He could hear them discussing how to steal the intelligence without setting off the alarm.

Troy whispered in Miguel's ear, "They're about to attack. We gotta tell the others."

Miguel was about to say something, but he noticed Donald the Demoman standing behind the Soldier. Or at least he _thought_ it was Donald. He laid his hand on his melee weapon, realizing that Donald would never wake up so quickly after such a physical demand for alcohol. Miguel quickly unsheathed a cattle prod from his belt. Troy saw this and ducked. Miguel thrust his cattle prod at the Demoman. The electricity traveled through his body and he collapsed on the ground. The Demoman transformed into a dead BLU Spy lying on the dirt floor.

"They know we're here!"

The BLU Team spotted the eavesdroppers.

"Time to go!" Troy pulled Miguel away from the tree, which began to fill with bullets by a BLU Heavy's Minigun.

Troy and Miguel ran back towards the campsite and warned the others that visitors have arrived. Kyle had to drench Donald with water in order for him to feel fully conscious. Everyone brandished their own weapons, all but Miguel, who opened the remaining boxes and pulled out a handful of sticks of dynamite and shoved them in every one of his pockets.

Randy yelled, "We gotta warn the others!"

A fast-moving bullet sped right past his neck. Randy didn't concentrate on the BLU Sniper who tried to shoot him down. He wanted to run back to the fortress to spread the word. He and his friends ran away from the campsite.

Donald fought back against the BLU Team with his grenade launcher, whereas Randy used his pistol to try and take down a BLU Medic. While running, Miguel held a stick of dynamite in his hand, lit the fuse, and threw it at his oncoming adversaries. The immediate explosion annihilated three of them.

Randy appeared impressed with the effectiveness of Miguel's explosives. "Helluva blast, Miguel!"

"Gracias, amigo!"

An incoming BLU Scout had been stopped by Kyle's flare gun. The poor young man ran wildly in circles calling for his Medic, but Miguel's second dynamite blast turned him into minced meat.

In just a few seconds, the RED teammates found a deep chasm with a long fallen tree log acting as a bridge. Troy remembered it well as the fortress was located on the other side of the ravine. He and his companions jumped on it and tried to keep their balance while sprinting towards the ravine. But the sudden appearance of a BLU Spy at the other end of the log caught them off guard. With an iniquitous smile, the BLU Spy pointed his revolver at them. The Dead Ringer watch in his hand had been an indication that this was the same Spy that tried to kill Troy and Miguel just a few minutes ago.

The BLU Spy laughed. "Surprise!"

The remaining BLU Team (a Medic and a Sniper) followed from behind with their weapons ready to be used. The BLU Spy remarked, "Give up, you hopeless buffoons. We are not afraid to tear you apart."

Located right in the middle of the RED group, Miguel tried to act calm as he secretly pulled the last bottle of alcohol out from his coat. He wrapped his handkerchief around the top as the BLU Spy continued to babble clichéd phrases. Talking before pulling the trigger had been a fortunate occurrence, because Miguel had enough time to set the handkerchief on fire with his lighter.

Right before revealing it to the enemies, Miguel yelled, "Oh, shut up, you babbling French Fry!"

He threw the newly made Molotov cocktail at the BLU Spy. A direct hit. The Frenchman's entire body had erupted in flames. He screamed as he dropped his revolver and Dead Ringer watch. Donald fired a grenade right at the BLU Medic. Troy and Randy each fired four rounds of shotgun shells straight at the BLU Sniper before he could even discharge bullets from his SMG. The Medic exploded and the Sniper collapsed on the edge of the chasm. The fiery BLU Spy, still screaming in pain, fell off the log and plummeted down the dark silent emptiness of the abyss. The echoes of his agonizing scream faded away until it could no longer be heard from the outside world.

Miguel wiped sweat from off his forehead. "I still don't understand why they always keep talking before pulling the trigger."

Randy chuckled. "One of life's biggest mysteries."

"Shall we go back to base?"

"Mmhm-mmrmmr-mhmmm."

Randy gave a smile. "You're all right, Miguel."

"Thank you."

The five of them took a stroll back to the campsite to collect the rest of Miguel's ammunition. On their way, Miguel just had to ask his fellow Demoman, "Why don't you ever use dynamite when you're in battle? Demolition men are supposed to keep some in their pockets."

Donald whispered, "It has something to do with a bloody two-weapon limit. You don't want to know about it."

TO BE CONTINUED…

* * *

_**INFO**_

OUTLAW

Real Name: Miguel

Age: 44

Race: Argentinian

Place of Origin: Mendoza, Argentina

* * *

Health: 175

Job: Defense

* * *

Appearance: Clean shaven, short hair, weapon in one hand and his lighter in the other

Clothes: Black pants, boots, Red/Blue bandana around his forehead

* * *

Running Speed: About as fast as Demoman

Weakness: Like the Demoman, the Outlaw has no hit-scan weapons

* * *

Description of Arsenal: Instead of shotguns or miniguns or flamethrowers, the Outlaw throws certain hazardous items at enemies with his strong throwing arm. Much of his arsenal requires his special lighter.

* * *

Primary Weapon: Stick of Dynamite

Ammo: 15 in total

Damage: Up to 110

Crit Damage: Up to 195

Pro: Enormous splash damage

Con: When it lands on the floor, the dynamite has a 1-second delay before explosion

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Molotov cocktail

Ammo: 20 in total

Damage: 7 to 24 every one second

Crit Damage: 15 to 39 every one second

Pro: Damage from Cocktails lasts about 8 seconds

Con: Small splash damage; flames can be exterminated with enemy Pyro's air blast

* * *

Melee Weapon: Cattle Prod

Damage: Up to 195

Additional Information: This is no ordinary Cattle Prod. It's a Cattle Prod that's been tweaked by the Outlaw himself. Be warned: if he can't hit an enemy with his melee weapon, then he loses 10 Health every time he misses. This is because the Cattle Prod is so powerful, that the electricity injures the Outlaw when it can't travel through someone else's body.

* * *

_**Unlock/Drop/Purchase/Craft Items**_

Secondary Weapon: Hand Grenade

Ammo: 15 in total

Damage: Up to 80

Crit Damage: Up to 160

Pro: Unlike the Rocketeer, the Outlaw has more ammunition

Con: Unlike the Rocketeer's Hand Grenades, the Outlaw's do less damage

Additional Information: This weapon does not require a lighter

* * *

Primary Weapon: C-4 Explosive

Ammo: 12 in total

Damage: Up to 120

Crit Damage: Up to 240

Pro: Huge splash damage

Con: Slightly lower ammunition

Additional Information: Instead of a lighter, C-4 is detonated with a remote control ("Right Mouse" button)

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Bomb (aka the Executioner)

Ammo: 1 in total

Damage: Up to 205

Crit Damage: Up to 310

Pro: This is the strongest weapon in the Outlaw's arsenal. It has enormous splash damage, and deals incredible harm to enemies.

Con: Like the Soldier's Buff Banner and the Scout's Sandman, the Bomb must be recharged after use. It takes about 90 seconds for it to be fully regenerated. Plus, there's a 2-second delay before explosion.

Additional Information: Appearance of the Bomb is typically cartoonish: black-colored sphere with a fuse on top, and a hissing noise when the fuse is lit.

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Explosive Bell Pepper

Ammo: 25 in total

Damage: Up to 90

Crit Damage: Up to 185

Pro: Plenty of ammunition

Con: Splash damage is rather small

Additional Information: These aren't ordinary bell peppers. The Outlaw has injected them with gasoline. He lights the fuse (which is the pepper's stem) and throws them at enemies. When landing on impact, there's a 1-second delay before explosion. Also, the bell peppers come in four different colors: red, green, yellow, and orange.

* * *

Primary Weapon: Hot Coal Launcher

Ammo: 50 in total

Damage: 11 to 57

Crit Damage: 17 to 72

Pro: Plenty of ammunition, and no need to reload

Con: Not very accurate at long range

Additional Information: The Hot Coal Launcher is in the shape of the rifle, only the ammo is placed on top of the weapon. Coals the size of golf balls are placed inside a bowl. When pulling the trigger, the rounds are fired out of the barrel of the rifle one by one (a half-second delay after each discharge). The Outlaw lights the coals on fire, and the size of the flames indicate level of damage. When the flames on the coals are large, the weapon will deal greatest damage to enemies. But when the fire begins to die out, damage to enemies will decrease. When the fire disappears completely, then the coals will be useless. This means that ammunition has to be relit with the lighter (the "Right Mouse" button). It cannot be relit when it's still burning; it has to be done when the flames are all gone. In addition, when a coal hits an enemy, it breaks apart and the remains fall to the floor. Splash damage is small, but with plenty of ammunition, it probably won't be a problem. Unfortunately, the enemy can't be set on fire with this weapon.

* * *

Coming up next:

Meet the WEATHERMAN

Meet the FEMME FATALE

Meet the BODYGUARD


	5. Meet the WEATHERMAN

NOTE: As usual, this class is my own idea. The original nine classes belong to Valve.

* * *

Meet the WEATHERMAN

STARRING:

Simon (Scout)

Randy (Engineer)

Boris (Heavy Weapons Guy)

Miguel (Outlaw)

INTRODUCING:

Shane (Weatherman)

* * *

The sirens howled all across the fortress. Everyone ran for cover, all but one. Shane, one of the new recruits, anticipated this moment. The RED Team wasn't under attack by enemy invaders. No, the sirens signaled a Storm Watch. Mercenaries ran towards the basement with provisions required for a state of emergency. Dark clouds hovered over the entire fortress. The distant sounds of thunder grew louder after every passing minute. The Administrator announced that an enormous tornado had been spotted not far from the northern woods. But Shane didn't have his mind set on the basement. He knew what he had to do.

The Native-American man continued to build his weapon in the locker room. He sat on the bench and used his own tools to assemble the correct parts. As he connected two parts together with a screwdriver, Randy the Engineer ran in and blurted, "Didn't ya hear the sirens, Shane?! We gotta get down to the basement!"

In a calm and straightforward manner, Shane replied with a clean American accent, "I'm not going. I have to finish this."

Randy took off his helmet and his goggles. Shane could see a bewildered look in his eyes. "What the hell are ya talkin' about?"

"I'm waiting for this storm to arrive."

"You're doin' that crazy talk again."

"It's not crazy talk, Randy. I need this storm to complete my arsenal."

"What does a tornado have to do with your guns?"

"You shall see. I may need your help on this."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I need you to help me finish the _electric machine_."

"You mean the one that you've been workin' on for the past six days?"

"Yes, that is the one."

"Forget it. I'm placing my luck on the basement."

"You will not be harmed, trust me. I know how tornadoes and lightning work."

Randy scratched the side of his neck. "I don't know, Shane. I've never risked my life during a storm like you have."

Shane kept calm. "Then I'll show you."

When he finished piecing together his weapon, Shane led the Engineer outside to where the electric machine stood still. It looked like a satellite dish with a long thin pole located in the center of the concave. Both Shane and Randy worked together to complete assembling the machine, while the rest of the mercenaries ran toward the basement. The clouds grew darker, the winds grew faster, and the sounds of thunder grew louder. Simon the Scout stopped dead at his tracks when he saw two of his friends working instead of running for shelter. He yelled, "What's stoppin' you guys?!"

Shane kept his eyes on the machine. "We're working on our project. Don't distract us."

"Come on! There's a twister coming."

"And that's the whole point of our project."

Simon shook his head. "Well, you go ahead and get sucked up in the air. I'm going down to the basement."

Simon ran away from Shane and Randy, both of whom finished the _electric machine _just in time for lightning to be seen in the distance. But when they tried to pick it up, they realized that it was too heavy. And speaking of heavy, Boris the Heavy Weapons Guy walked right past them. He was carrying the refrigerator, no doubt filled with sandwiches and beer. Shane and Randy looked at each other very briefly before they called out his name.

Boris turned around. Shane told him, "We need your help."

"With what?"

Randy replied, "First, put that fridge down and we'll tell ya."

Boris put the fridge down on the floor. Randy continued, "We need you to help us put this on the roof."

"What for?"

Shane grew a little impatient. "There's no time for explanations. We need it on the roof before the tornado arrives."

"But storm is dangerous! We need shelter!"

"We'll give you a free Playboy magazine."

"Which roof do you want it on?"

"Near the radio tower, the one that's right on top of the warehouse."

In just several minutes, Boris helped Shane and Randy carry the machine up on the roof of the warehouse. As the winds picked up speed, the bolts of lightning moved ever closer to the fortress. Shane and Randy set up the electric machine, which was also composed of numerous wires. They attached a few wires to the bottom legs of the radio tower. Shane brandished the rifle-shaped weapon that he finished in the locker room and wrapped more wires around it.

Boris stared at the oncoming storm with fright. "It is coming!"

In the midst of loud thunder, Shane yelled, "Don't worry! We'll be safe."

"How do you know?!"

"The tornado won't last very long."

Randy put on his goggles. "I hope you're right, because there it is!"

He pointed at the humongous funnel that inched ever closer to base. Shane now knew that he had only a limited time to finish the project. "All right, men, this is it!"

Boris shouted, "Tornado is scaring me!"

"Trust me, Boris! I know what I'm doing! Now stand back!"

Randy and Boris took several steps back from the machine. Shane held his assembled weapon in his hands and waited for the bolts of lightning to hit the radio tower. He whispered to himself, "Please don't let me down, God."

One bolt of lightning struck the top of the radio tower. Electricity traveled from the tower to the _electric machine_. It traveled through the wires, and Shane stood still as the electricity reached the assembled weapon. Randy and Boris looked absolutely terrified, but Shane knew that he would never be harmed because of the object that he held in his hands. Another bolt of lightning struck the radio tower, and a third. Shane needed more electricity to power up his weapon.

Randy yelled, "I think it's time to get out of here!"

Shane didn't flinch. "Go ahead and run!"

Randy and Boris ran down the stairs and out of the warehouse, but Shane stayed where he was. He still needed more electricity. A few more bolts of lightning struck the radio tower, but the tornado was about the hit the fence that protected the fortress. As the electricity traveled into the weapon, it began to activate itself. It trembled and made a hissing noise. Soon, the voltage expanded as nonstop lightning popped out of the dark clouds.

"It's time!"

The weapon had finally been fully charged with the proper ammunition. The tornado fortunately didn't damage the fence because the funnel slowly weakened and disappeared. It left the fortress unharmed, though several bits of debris lay scattered on the ground. Randy and Boris walked back up the roof of the warehouse. They couldn't believe that Shane had survived the storm. The Native-American stood still with his latest creation in his hands. The weapon's metallic surface spewed out tiny bits of electric energy. A smile formed on Shane's face.

Randy took a few steps forward. "Are you all right, Shane?"

Shane replied, "Yes, I am."

Miguel the Outlaw arrived from the stairs and asked, "What happened?"

Shane showed the Argentinian recruit his weapon. "I just found the perfect storm."

"Ah yes, you've told me about your quest for the storm many times." Miguel looked closely at the new weapon. "So it is fully charged?"

"Yes…yes, it is."

Randy turned to look at Miguel. "What are you doing up here, anyway?"

Miguel replied, "I am reporting casualties, and so far, no one is hurt."

Shane raised a finger. "I don't think that's true…somebody please take me to see the Medic."

Boris asked, "Why?"

Shane pulled the wires off of the brand new Lightning Launcher and walked slowly towards the stairs. He calmly stated, "The lightning was pretty intense…and I need some morphine to ease the pain inside my kidneys."

"No problem." Randy led Shane downstairs, followed by Boris and an amused Miguel.

TO BE CONTINUED…

* * *

_**INFO**_

WEATHERMAN

Real Name: Shane

Age: 34

Race: Native-American

Hometown: Kansas City, Missouri

* * *

Health: 200

Job: Defense

* * *

Appearance: Tall, long black hair, clean shaven, brown skin, muscular in an ordinary manner (NOT like Saxton Hale)

Clothes: Black pants, white short-sleeved undershirt, red/blue shirt wrapped around the waist

* * *

Running Speed: Slightly faster than Soldier

Weakness: The Weatherman cannot pick up health/ammo packs

* * *

Description of Arsenal: As his name suggests, his weapons and ammunition have something to do with the dark side of nature: lightning, acid rain, blizzard, wind, etc.

* * *

Primary Weapon: Lightning Launcher

Ammo: 20 in total

Damage: 80 to 165 (depending on distance)

Crit Damage: 280 to 400 (again, depending on distance)

Pro: No need to reload

Con: After first bolt of lightning, every other round has a 1 ½-second delay before discharge

Additional Information: Each lightning bolt can reach an enemy at the speed of light: an immediate hit for an enemy when the trigger to the Lightning Launcher is pulled. The long rays of electric light that are ejected from the weapon have an endless length, meaning that each bolt of lightning can be up to 200 feet long.

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Hailstone Launcher

Ammo: 200 in total

Damage: 11 to 19 per round

Crit Damage: 63 to 98 per round

Pro: Plenty of ammunition; no need to reload

Con: Due to fast rate of fire, ammunition is spent rather quickly

Additional Information: The hailstones, which are the size of golf balls, are discharged from a custom-built machine gun.

* * *

Melee Weapon: Sledgehammer

Damage: Up to 100

Crit Damage: Up to 290

Additional Information: Each kill refreshes health by 50, while each hit refreshes health by 10

* * *

_**Unlock/Drop/Purchase/Craft Items**_

Secondary Weapon: Acid Rain

Ammo: 1 in total

Damage: 5 to 18 every 1 second (a total of 8 seconds)

Crit Damage: 55 to 130 every 1 second

Pro: Each kill with this weapon refreshes health by 25

Con: Like the Soldier's Buff Banner and Sniper's Jarate, the Acid Rain must be recharged after use (a total of 15 seconds)

Additional Information: Acid Rain is kept inside a glass sphere, nearly half-full. When thrown at an enemy, the glass sphere will break apart and the enemy will be drenched in Acid Rain. The color of the liquid is dark green.

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Mutant Snowball

Ammo: 1 in total

Damage: none

Crit Damage: none

Pro: When an enemy is hit with a Snowball, the cold temperature freezes them in place for 10 seconds. The enemy can't use his weapons, though he is able to use his Taunt Kill.

Con: Deals no damage to enemies; must be recharged after use (a total of 20 seconds)

Additional Information: If an enemy is hit with the Snowball, the enemy Pyro is absolutely useless as he cannot eliminate the freezing temperature with his flamethrower.

* * *

Melee Weapon: Traditional Native-American Spear

Damage: Up to 150

Crit Damage: Up to 450

Pro: Gives the Weatherman faster sprinting speed

Con: Lowers maximum health at 175

* * *

Primary Weapon: Cold Wave

Ammo: Unlimited

Damage: Up to 85

Crit Damage: Up to 290

Pro: No need to reload (like the Soldier's Cow Mangler)

Con: Weapon does tend to freeze up (after 7 to 8 rounds), so the Weatherman must wait until it warms up before using it again

Additional Information: Cold Wave is the exact opposite of Pyro's flamethrower: instead of fire, the rifle-shaped weapon spews out white plumes of cold air which lowers enemy's body temperature. When an enemy is hit with cold air, not only will he take damage, but his sprinting speed will decrease. The lower his health, the slower his movement. However, an enemy Pyro can warm him up with his flamethrower and give him back his original sprinting speed. The Pyro can't refresh health, though.

* * *

Primary Weapon: Extreme Drought

Ammo: Unlimited

Damage: Up to 100

Crit Damage: Up to 375

Pro: Deals greater damage to enemies than Cold Wave; No need to reload

Con: Weapon tends to overheat (after 6 to 7 rounds), so the Weatherman must wait until it cools down before using it again (slower recovery than Cold Wave)

Additional Information: Extreme Drought is the exact opposite of Cold Wave: instead of cold air, the rifle-shaped weapon spews out gold-colored plumes of hot air which "dehydrates" the enemy. When an enemy is hit with hot air, not only will he take damage, but he will also start to feel dizzy (blurred vision and wobbly movement). The dizziness, which is one of the most common symptoms of dehydration, can disappear when the enemy refreshes his health (with dispensers and such).

* * *

Primary Weapon: The Wind Machine

Ammo: 15 in total

Damage: Up to 150

Crit Damage: Up to 450

Pro: Deals more damage to enemies than Lightning Launcher; No need to reload

Con: Less ammunition than Lightning Launcher

Additional Information: The Wind Machine is a custom-built rifle that discharges rounds of powerful gale winds (in the shape of blue-colored light-bending cylinders). The gale winds travel slightly faster than Soldier's rockets. When an enemy is hit, the winds cause him to explode (just like the Rocket Launcher).

* * *

Coming up next:

Meet the FEMME FATALE

Meet the BODYGUARD


	6. Meet the FEMME FATALE

Note: This chapter contains some strong violent content. Readers are warned. Also, this character (including her info) belong to me. The original characters belong to Valve.

* * *

Meet the FEMME FATALE

STARRING:

Jean-Philippe (Spy)

Ms. Walsh (Administrator)

The BLU Team

INTRODUCING:

Victoria (Femme Fatale)

* * *

Fifteen minutes.

She promised herself to do her job in less than fifteen minutes. As she stood on top of a roof, the Sri Lankan woman took a good look at the stronghold all around her. Its blue walls and concrete foundation seemed almost foreign to her, but she was willing to adapt to a new environment. She looked up to the full moon that radiated the night sky. Then, she closed her eyes and held her rifle tightly in her hand. She was now ready to steal the Intel.

Without a single ounce of hesitation, she jumped onto a balcony and quickly looked for incoming adversaries. She crept into a long hallway. At the other side, she took a peek inside a room where a BLU Sniper sat slouching on a bench with his eyes closed. It looked like he slept during guard duty. She would have killed him right there. But if she did, loud noises would be made and more BLU mercenaries would track her down. She only had a limited time to complete her task. As she took a deep breath, she let the BLU Sniper doze off and left the room.

She walked down a flight of stairs. But she froze herself when she heard inaudible voices from below. She leaned against the wall and held her AK-47 close to her chest. This was the only way to reach the Intel. If she had to, she would annihilate those who stood in her way. She tiptoed down the last few steps of stairs and tried to see which two mercenaries were conversing with each other. She stayed in the shadows when a BLU Soldier and a BLU Weatherman talked of political babble. It had something to do with Europeans "invading" the original United States, but that didn't matter to the woman who kept her mouth shut. Suddenly, however, the BLU Weatherman stopped talking. He stared at the direction of the woman who hid in the shadows. The BLU Soldier asked him what was wrong. But the Weatherman didn't say another word as he slowly picked up his Lightning Launcher from the bench. She knew that she had to take action. She pointed the barrel of her AK-47 towards the mercenaries and pulled the trigger. The bullets ripped through flesh, and both men collapsed on the floor with blood pouring out of their permanent wounds. They lay still, but the woman fled.

The sirens howled all around the BLU fort. Now everyone knew that they had an intruder. She ran as fast as she could. On her way to the Intel, however, a BLU Pyro stood at least twenty-five feet in front of her. He pointed his Flare Gun at her. She dodged the oncoming ball of fire and pulled the trigger. The BLU Pyro had enough time to make a leap behind a wall and avoid injury. She kept firing until her magazine had emptied. She had to make a quick decision. She couldn't reload. The BLU Pyro revealed himself again, but this time, with his Flamethrower. He pulled the trigger, and an enormous bursts of hot flames erupted from the barrel of his weapon. She ran backwards, and pulled out her Pistol from her belt. She pointed the barrel at the Pyro's neck. She pulled the trigger, and almost instantly, the Pyro's neck exploded with the color red. He threw down his flamethrower and grabbed hold of his neck with both of his hands. He collapsed on the ground. He kicked at empty air and began to make loud gurgling noises as a puddle of blood grew all around him. From the corner of her eye, the woman saw a BLU Assassin about to fire a Poisoned Arrow at her. The woman dropped her Pistol and ran towards the Assassin, who had a puzzled look on her face. The Assassin kept the arrow untouched on her small crossbow and brandished one of her Dual Pistols. She couldn't pull the trigger in time as her opponent grabbed her arm and flung her to the ground. The RED mercenary immediately pulled out a Straight Razor from her belt and slit the Assassin's throat. The Assassin's eyes widened as she gurgled blood from out of her mouth and out of her open neck. The RED mercenary stood up and picked up her weapons. She walked away, leaving the BLU Pyro and BLU Assassin to struggle with tremendous pain as they neared eventual death.

As she carried her AK-47 in her hands, she looked at her watch. She had only eight minutes left. She had to hurry.

She stopped dead at her tracks when she saw shadows of incoming mercenaries from a flight of stairs. She looked up to find an open balcony. A device attached to her arm would give her a simple getaway. She fired her Grappling Hook up at the top of the balcony and hoisted herself up from the ground. She reached the balcony just in time for a BLU Demoman and a BLU Rocketeer to run right past her. She stayed quiet for several seconds before she took a leap back down on the lower floor.

She could feel it. She almost made it to the Intel. She kept running. She had to complete her mission. She ran through a hallway and found a closed door a few yards in front of her. She pointed her rifle at the doorknob and fired one round. The bullet ricocheted off of the brass surface, but it managed to break it apart. She flung herself at the door. Her aggressive impact caused the door to swing open. She now found herself in an office. She had her eyes on the blue-colored briefcase that lay on a desk. She didn't have time to hesitate. She walked closer towards the Intel. Her hand was about to touch the handle, but a loud spinning noise caused her to stand frozen. She knew that sound.

"Don't move."

The robust voice of a BLU Heavy didn't affect her patience. She made a giant leap and hid behind the desk. The BLU Heavy fired nonstop rounds with his Minigun. It's too bad that he didn't know anything about her backup weapon. She pulled the pin of her Flash Grenade and threw it at the Heavy's direction. She kept herself hidden and waited for the grenade to explode. The Heavy screamed as an eruption of white light filled the office. She knew that he was now blinded. She stood up from the desk and pointed her Pistol at the blinded Heavy, who flung his arms in desperation.

"My eyes!"

She squeezed the trigger five times. The bullets flew through the Heavy's torso. He fell lifeless on the floor.

Now, this was it. She had to get out of here. She took the Intel and ran through various rooms and corridors. Once she was outside, she had no other choice but to run. She exited the fort and went through a corn field. Even as distant BLU mercenaries tried hard to bring her down with bullets and rockets, she made it out safely. Undeterred, Victoria had completed her mission.

* * *

She showed the Intel to Ms. Walsh, the Administrator. Ms. Walsh gave a blank stare. Victoria prepared herself for the arrival of traditional wrath.

"Why did you go alone?"

Victoria replied with a mild South Asian accent, "I didn't need assistance."

"You broke one of the most common rules of our organization. You seem to miss the point of your presence."

"And what would that be?"

Ms. Walsh's voice grew impatient. "You left the premises and stole the Intel all on your own. We are supposed to work as a _team_."

"I guess I wasn't taught hard enough."

Walsh ignored Victoria's sarcasm and remarked, "Don't talk to me that way. Don't you remember what I have done for you?"

The Sri Lankan would never forget it. Ms. Walsh single-handedly saved her from a long era of pain and suffering. "I don't have to be reminded."

"Victoria, listen to me. I have brought you this far. Perhaps it's time to make me proud of your newfound pride."

"I already have."

"No, you haven't. You broke a cardinal rule. Show me that you care by cooperating with your teammates."

"I shouldn't have to—"

"I mean it!" Walsh's sudden outburst caused Victoria to take one step back.

Walsh quickly calmed herself. "Do you have a certain grudge against your teammates?"

"No, I do not."

"Prove it to me. And prove your devotion to not only Mr. Ingram, but also to me."

Victoria gave a slow nod. "I'm sorry to have disappointed you."

Ms. Walsh shook her head. "You haven't disappointed me. You _did _steal the Intel. I congratulate you for your splendid effort…but next time, try to complete a mission with everyone else."

* * *

Victoria left the office and went back to the locker room. She opened her locker and placed her pistol and her unused rifle magazines inside it. Just as she closed the door, she stood still. She fixed her gaze at the ground. Her past had caught up to her. She began to think about how she found salvation. Victoria ran away from home at a young age, and the Administrator found her in Siberia. Victoria was broken (both physically and mentally), but Walsh kept her away from harm. Walsh trained her and introduced her to Mr. Ingram, the owner of the RED fort. He seemed impressed and wanted her as one of the new recruits. Victoria already expected to become yet another one of Mr. Ingram's minions. But what she didn't expect was how she had to work with other people. She had always worked alone to preserve her survival in South Asia. At that time, she felt like a free individual. She felt an ultimate sense of relief after everything that she went through in your earlier years.

"Congratulations, Victoria."

She closed her locker and turned around to see Jean-Philippe the Spy smiling. She replied, "Thank you."

Jean-Philippe remarked, "I am almost amazed that you've managed to escape that BLU lair."

"I've learned to take care of myself."

"But I do not see the reason why you always work alone."

Victoria shook her head. "It's what I've always done."

"Why do you do it?"

"It's not something I should talk about."

"Does it have anything to do with your place of origin?"

Victoria finally grew impatient. "I do not want to talk about it."

"But your silence has caused a bit of intrigue among us. Your teammates don't know much about you, not even me."

"That's what the Administrator has told me."

Jean-Philippe opened his cigarette case. "What are you hiding, Victoria? What is holding you back from revealing the early stages of your life?"

"I don't have time to talk."

It was no use. In fact, it was never any use to ask her simple questions. "Fine, but answer me this. Will you always work alone?"

Victoria gave it much thought. "I will try to cooperate with everyone here."

Jean-Philippe lit his cigarette. "That's all I want to know at the moment."

The woman left the room in silence. Jean-Philippe sat on the bench with his cigarette in his mouth. The Femme Fatale was a strange individual. She always kept silent, and she always did the work herself. The entire RED team may have flourished with her personal success, but she shouldn't break the rules at the same time. Now, she said that she was willing to cooperate with her teammates. It may have been a good thing, but she still tried to hide her past. The Spy had only known her for one week, and he remained fascinated by her. He wanted to know more of her (everyone did). He promised himself that he would discover the truth. The woman from Sri Lanka was mysterious, but it might be better off if she detached herself from a life of secrecy.

TO BE CONTINUED…

* * *

_**INFO**_

FEMME FATALE

Real Name: Victoria

Age: 32

Race: Sri Lankan

Hometown: Somewhere in Sri Lanka

* * *

Health: 150

Job: Support

* * *

Appearance: Long black hair, dark skin

Clothes: Red/Blue long-sleeved shirt, long black skirt that reaches the ankles

* * *

Running Speed: About as fast as Spy

Weakness: The Femme Fatale is unable to deal Crits or Mini-Crits to enemies (though she can still regain health and become invulnerable with the Medic's arsenal). The Kritzkrieg and Buff Banner will not be useful.

* * *

Primary Weapon: AK-47

Ammo: 30 out of 120 Rounds

Damage: 10 to 45 per round

Pro: Plenty of ammunition; accurate at close range

Con: Not very accurate at a far distance

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Pistol

Ammo: 10 out of 50 Rounds

Damage: 9 to 13 per round

Pro: Plenty of ammunition

Con: Slow rate of fire

* * *

Tertiary Weapon: Flash Grenade

Ammo: 1 in total

Damage: none

Info: Flash of light gives enemy blindness for a maximum for 8 seconds. Also, like the Heavy's Sandvich and the Soldier's Buff Banner, the Flash Grenade must be recharged after use (a total of 25 seconds). The blindness is in the form of the color white that fills the entire computer screen.

Pro: Good way to escape from enemies if cornered; invulnerability is given to Femme Fatale when enemies go blind (it disappears when the blindness fades and vanishes)

Con: Does not do damage to Enemy's health; Femme Fatale cannot kill/injure them when they're blind (though other players on her team can).

* * *

Melee Weapon: Straight Razor

Damage: Up to 60

Additional Information: Straight Razor might be a small melee weapon, but Femme Fatale does know how to deal a lot of damage with it.

Specialty: Grappling Hook

Info: The Grapping Hook enables the Femme Fatale to reach rooftops, high balconies, and open windows. The hook is in the shape of an arrowhead. The rope is made of metal. The only downside to the Grappling Hook is that the rope has a limited length of fifty feet.

* * *

_**Unlock/Drop/Purchase/Craft **_Items

Primary Weapon: M-16 Assault Rifle

Ammo: 30 out of 150 Rounds

Damage: 18 to 30 per round

Pro: More ammunition than AK-47

Con: Less accuracy than AK-47

* * *

Primary Weapon: MP5 Submachine Gun

Ammo: 30 out of 150 Rounds

Damage: 6 to 30 per round

Pro: More ammunition than AK-47

Con: Deals less damage than AK-47

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Throwing Knives

Ammo: 10 in Total

Damage: 75 to 125

Pro: Deals plenty of damage to enemies; very high accuracy

Con: Low ammunition

Additional Information: When an enemy is hit, he will "bleed" for about four seconds, taking at least 3 damage every half-second.

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Ace of Spades

Ammo: 10 in Total

Damage: No Damage…Just Death

Info: Ace of Spades from a deck of cards symbolizes death. When the Femme Fatale flings it and hits an enemy with it, there is a countdown towards extinction. The enemy is given a specific amount of time to grab a health pack, reach a dispenser, or return to the resupply locker. If he cannot do any of these things in time, then he will evaporate into thin air. The Medic's healing weapons are considered useless against the countdown. The Scout, Assassin, Rocketeer, Engineer, and enemy Femme Fatale are given 15 seconds to avoid death. The Spy, Medic, Sniper, and Pyro are given 20 seconds. The Demoman, Soldier, Outlaw, and Weatherman are given 25 seconds. The Heavy and Bodyguard are given 30 seconds.

Additional Information: The Assassin is also able to obtain the Ace of Spades, but in a different way. While the Femme Fatale can unlock it, the Assassin can craft it.

* * *

Tertiary Weapon: Love Potion

Ammo: 1 in Total

Damage: none

Info: Love Potion is a pink-colored liquid enclosed inside a glass perfume bottle. When thrown at an enemy, the glass breaks apart. Any enemy that will be drenched in liquid will go blind (with love). The blindness is in the shape of the color pink that fills the entire computer screen.

Pro: Longer blindness time than Flash Grenade; invulnerability is given to Femme Fatale when enemies go blind (it disappears when the blindness fades and vanishes)

Con: Longer time to recharge than Flash Grenade (a total of 30 seconds); deals no damage to enemies. Also, Femme Fatale cannot kill/injure them when they're blind (though other players on her team can).

* * *

Tertiary Weapon: Sitar

Ammo: No ammo

Damage: none

Info: When the Femme Fatale plucks the strings, any enemy that is within a 25-foot radius will be stunned, frozen in place (just like when the Scout's Sandman is used). Enemies will stay stunned for a total of 8 seconds, enough time for the Femme Fatale to escape if she is cornered.

Pro: Femme Fatale is able to use this against more than one enemy at the same time; invulnerability is given to her when enemies go blind (it disappears when the blindness fades and vanishes)

Con: Deals no damage to enemies; longer time to recharge than Love Potion (a total of 45 seconds). Femme Fatale cannot kill/injure them when they're stunned (though other players on her team can).

Note on Sitar: This musical instrument is primarily used in India, though certain musicians from Sri Lanka have been known to play it.

* * *

Coming up next:

Meet the BODYGUARD


	7. Meet the BODYGUARD, Part One

Note: Because of its sheer length, I've decided to separate this segment into parts. I don't know how many there will be at the moment, but I'm sure that in the end, there will be more than three parts in total. And also, this class (including his info) belongs to me. And of course, the original classes belong to Valve.

* * *

Meet the BODYGUARD

STARRING: Scout, Assassin, Rocketeer, Soldier, Pyro, Outlaw, Demoman, Heavy Weapons Guy, Weatherman, Engineer, Medic, Sniper, Femme Fatale, and Spy

INTRODUCING: Bodyguard

* * *

"Four of a Kind!"

The Heavy revealed his cards to the rest of the gang.

Sniper gave a grunt. "Bloody hell."

Pyro shook his head in disbelief. Scout let out a huge sigh. Rocketeer just threw his cards on the poker table in silence. Medic frowned as he said, "Zat is ze fourth Four of a Kind in a row."

Heavy laughed as he collected the chips. "I am king of cards."

Rocketeer said in a monotonous tone, "Sure, you are."

Sniper recollected the cards and reshuffled them. "Is anyone still willing to play another round?"

Pyro replied, "Mmmhr-mhhhr-mmhmmhmm."

"Perhaps I should take his place." The Bodyguard had just arrived at the poker table. The middle-aged Saudi Arabian man was plump and had a large hairy beard. He wasn't as tall as the Heavy, but he still appeared tough on the outside.

Scout asked, "Do ya even know how to play poker?'

With a Middle Eastern accent, Bodyguard replied, "I have been playing for twenty good years."

Heavy chuckled. "I see challenge from desert man."

Bodyguard smiled. "May the best man win."

Pyro stood up from his chair and left. The Bodyguard took his seat. Sniper finished reshuffling the cards and laid two of them in front of each of his teammates. They took a peek at their new cards in silence. Bodyguard noticed Pyro's short amount of chips that stood right in front of him. He laughed and said, "He can check for spies, and yet he can't check for bluffs."

Sniper cleared his throat. "Hey, Nazir, I've been meaning to ask you."

Bodyguard nodded, "Yes?"

"Is it true that you used to be a bodyguard for the emperor of Saudi Arabia?"

As the men continued playing, Bodyguard explained, "Yes, I did. I was his personal bodyguard for at least ten years."

Scout asked, "Why'd ya leave?"

Bodyguard took a look around the room and whispered, "I hate Don Knotts and…"

Heavy finished his sentence. "…and the emperor did _not_."

"You can say that it was a clash of opinions."

Rocketeer remarked, "He must be a real jackass if he kicked you out of his kingdom just because of _that_."

"Well, he also didn't like it when I slept with his wife."

Scout raised an eyebrow. "That really sucks, man. If I was an emperor, I wouldn't kick you out just because you don't like Don Knotts."

Bodyguard shrugged his shoulders. "What can you do?"

A few minutes later, everyone revealed their official cards. The Heavy had a Full House, but the Bodyguard won the round with his Royal Flush. Thankfully, the Heavy wasn't surprised by his defeat. He stated, "Good game, comrade."

Bodyguard smiled. "You're not bad yourself."

It was now Rocketeer's turn to reshuffle the cards. He asked, "You know, Nazir, we haven't seen much of what you do around here."

Bodyguard asked, "What ever do you mean?"

"I mean, we haven't seen you in combat yet, so we don't know your specialty. What _is_ your specialty?"

Bodyguard giggled. "Isn't it obvious? I will protect my friends at all costs."

Scout added, "So you're our personal bodyguard. I'm startin' to like ya already."

Rocketeer asked, "Do you use a shield or anything like that?"

Bodyguard replied, "You shall see once we are in battle together."

The round was over once Medic gained his first victory with his Flush. "Life is now sweet!"

Heavy yawned. "But victory is brief. I am finished with cards."

Scout stood up from his seat. "So am I."

Medic shook his head. "Your agony of defeat pleases only me."

"Yeah, we're sufferin' all right." Scout's sarcasm didn't mean anything to the German.

Heavy and Sniper cleared everything from the table. Rocketeer, who was out of his overalls and wore black pants and a sleeveless white undershirt, walked away from the poker table. He grabbed a glass bottle of soda from the refrigerator, and just as he was about to drink from it, he noticed someone staring out the window. Standing, the Femme Fatale used binoculars to observe an unfamiliar sight that lurked in the evening gloom.

Rocketeer walked towards her and asked, "What do you see?"

Femme Fatale kept her eyes locked onto her binoculars. "I have this uneasy feeling about the BLU Team."

"Do you see any of them out there?"

"No, I do not. I simply cannot understand what tactics they are trying to perfect this time."

"I'm sure they're just waiting to do their usual antics of pushing the cart and capturing points."

Femme Fatale lowered her binoculars and turned to stare at Rocketeer. "I am almost certain that you have not heard of the rumors that spread around this place."

"Pardon me for not using my intelligence to enhance my suspicions."

"I don't have time for your sarcasm. I do believe that something strange is going on at the other side of the woods."

"What do you think is happening on the other side?"

"I don't know, but judging by the silence that dominates their entire base, the BLU Team may have a special trick up their sleeves."

Scout interrupted them by asking, "What're ya guys talkin' about?"

Rocketeer replied, "Victoria thinks that there's something strange going on at the BLU base."

"No problem. We're prepared for anything."

The frown on Femme Fatale's face didn't change. "I have my doubts. They have tried to outsmart us before. Maybe they will overwhelm us for once, but perhaps with a secret weapon."

Scout muttered, "Boy, you sure are a bit of a downer sometimes."

Rocketeer leaned against the wall and took a sip of his soda. Femme Fatale added, "I don't think we are prepared for the possibility of a bleak future."

Rocketeer sighed. "Well, even if we _are_ about to be overwhelmed, I'm too tired to put on my jetpack. What time is it?"

Femme Fatale looked at her watch. "It's ten minutes after eleven."

"That's it. I'm going to bed."

Both Rocketeer and Scout walked away. Femme Fatale used her binoculars again to check and see if anything was amiss outside.

Meanwhile, back at the poker table, Heavy and Bodyguard pulled the caps off their bottles of beer. Heavy declared, "We drink to our health."

They clunk their bottles together and drank. Bodyguard seemed impressed with the alcohol. "This is some of the best beer that I've ever tasted."

Heavy remarked, "Thank Miguel. He is the one who brought liquor to our base."

"He's not going to waste them by setting them on fire, is he?"

"No, he uses Argentinian liquor for that."

"Which one is this?" Bodyguard pointed at his beer bottle.

"This is from a country called Colombia, where they make good coffee."

The Heavy and the Bodyguard discussed other matters, ranging from Russian Literature to American sitcoms. At one time, Heavy asked what weapon the Bodyguard uses for battle. The Saudi Arabian responded, "I use a shotgun."

"But _Scout_ uses shotgun."

"He uses a very _small_ shotgun. Mine is much bigger."

"I think size does not matter."

"Then why do you use a Minigun?"

Heavy laughed. "I am the only one who can lift it up from ground."

"Since I am here, you are now not alone."

"You wouldn't want to touch my Sasha."

"Good, because I only sleep with women."

It took a few seconds for Heavy to understand that joke. When he did, he let loose a huge belly laugh. Bodyguard laughed with him. Rocketeer watched as they enjoyed themselves with their comical outbursts. He took a seat at the poker table again and asked, "What are you laughing about?"

Heavy and Bodyguard quickly stopped laughing and, in a light-hearted tone, simultaneously said, "Nothing."

Rocketeer laid his bottle of soda on the table. Bodyguard asked, "So what did you talk about with the Sri Lankan woman?"

"Victoria thinks that there's something going on with the BLU Team?"

Heavy suddenly grew curious. "It sounds serious."

Bodyguard stated, "I don't think we should have anything to worry about. It's always a standard skirmish, isn't it?"

Rocketeer shook his head. "Not according to Victoria. She thinks there are tricks up certain sleeves."

"Hmm…" Bodyguard began to rub the ruby talisman that hung around his neck with his fingers. "I guess it doesn't hurt to be prepared."

"I'm not sure what we should be prepared for."

Heavy replied, "Let's just hope it won't be anything big."

Bodyguard whispered, "I guess you should count me out."

After a few seconds of silence, both Heavy and Bodyguard let out belly laughs. Feeling awkward, Rocketeer decided to leave them alone. He walked away as they continued to howl with laughter.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	8. Meet the BODYGUARD, Part Two

Meet the BODYGUARD (continued)

* * *

Sniper found her up on the watchtower. He climbed up the ladder and when he got to the top, he called out, "It's only me, Victoria!"

He saw the Femme Fatale still staring through her binoculars and observing the silent surroundings. The full moon became the brightest entity in the sky, and the reflection of its illumination spread throughout the entire base. Distant crickets chirped, and an owl flew past the watchtower.

"It's a beautiful evening, isn't it?"

Femme Fatale didn't respond. Sniper sat on a chair in the corner. He noticed her AK-47 leaning against the wall. "Do you see anything out there?"

Femme Fatale replied, "Not just yet."

"To be honest, I've got the same feelings as you."

She looked away from her binoculars and stared at the man seated on the chair. He added, "I'm a little suspicious myself about the other team."

"Are you sure you're not just saying that to impress me."

"Trust me, I'm not a fraud. I've got a really bad feeling about the BLU Team."

Femme Fatale remarked, "I find it amazing that they have always tried to outsmart us at least twice a week. They must be taking orders from a criminal mastermind."

"It's no surprise. They've tried to be one step ahead of us for quite awhile."

Femme Fatale returned her gaze through her binoculars. "Every time they are, it seems that they are growing smarter."

Sniper took off his hat. "I felt it, too. What do you suppose they're up to now?"

"I don't know, but we all must be prepared if they attack unexpectedly."

Sniper sighed. "Are you going to stay up all night?"

"If I must, then I must."

"I have to say that I admire your dedication."

"Well, thank you." She said that in such a casual manner.

"I never expected a woman to be so attentive."

Femme Fatale gave him an inquisitive stare. Sniper cleared his throat and said, "What I meant to say is that we've never had a female mercenary that was as intelligent and devoted as you."

Femme Fatale gave a half smile. "Shouldn't the Assassin count as well?"

"Yvonne is always with the Scout, so I can't really tell you two apart just yet."

Femme Fatale lowered her binoculars. "How long have you and your friends been residing in this fortress?"

"Two years and four months should be the best estimate."

"Doesn't it get a little lonely around such a desolate location?"

"We've got our television set to keep us company."

"Still, it would seem very painful to stay in one place for a long time."

"Professionals have standards: one of them is to adapt to the environment as quick as possible. And when you're done, always make sure that you're familiar with standard territory."

"I'm not that sort of person. I can't just stay in one place. I always enjoy moving from one place to another. I enjoy discovering newfound grandeur in different parts of the world."

"I used to travel, but now I'm on the job 24/7. But what made you join our team?"

"The Administrator suggested it to me. She said it would best fit me. There have been struggles, but now I'm just finding my stride."

"I heard that she's the one who personally trained you to become who you are right now."

"Yes, that is true."

"Do you like where you are now?"

It took a few seconds for Femme Fatale to answer that question. "…There are times in which my traditional skepticism takes place…and yet there are times in which I am proud to be where I am today."

Sniper smiled. "Good for you."

He glanced at his watch. "It's almost midnight. Are you going to stay up here?"

"Yes, I am."

"Well, I'm off. Goodnight, Victoria."

"Goodnight, Howard."

Sniper put on his back on his head. He climbed down the ladder and left the watchtower. Femme Fatale once again observed the surroundings through her binoculars. She still didn't find anything amiss in the night. She was about to think to herself that she had been feeling paranoid all this time, when she spotted something a couple of miles away. She adjusted the lens to get a clearer view of what had caught her attention. There was someone wandering in the woods. The person walked closer towards the fence that surrounded the entire fortress. The appearance of the wanderer seemed familiar to Femme Fatale. As the wanderer reached the fence, the RED mercenary realized who it was.

* * *

Sniper took a silent stroll through the empty corridors of the RED Base. He spotted someone sitting outside one of the barracks. The Outlaw was killing time by playing a catchy South American ballad on an acoustic guitar that he had just purchased for himself. Sniper was impressed with his musical performance so far. The Australian man took a few steps closer towards the Argentinian musician. "Good evening, mate."

Outlaw looked up from his guitar as soon as he finished his tune. "Fine evening, indeed."

Sniper sat a few feet away from him and asked, "Which song was that?"

"It was a very old composition called _The Door of the Wind_. Some say that the Incas were the ones who composed it, but that has yet to be proven. So what brought you outside, my friend?"

"I paid Victoria a visit. She's up on the watchtower."

"I must say that she is such a beautiful woman."

"Yes, she is."

"And yet she is so mysterious."

"Oh yes, she is."

At that exact moment, Sniper and Outlaw could hear two men laughing in the far distance. The voices sounded very familiar. Sniper proclaimed, "It looks like Boris and Nazir are enjoying another night of excessive alcohol."

"Does Boris ever drink much?"

"No, chocolate bars are his way of fighting addiction with another addiction."

"What about Nazir?"

"I've never seen him eat any."

"No, I mean does Nazir drink much?"

"It seems like he does. Whenever I open the refrigerator door, there's always one more beer bottle that's gone. But then again, I'm leaving out the Demoman."

"What is his specialty again?"

"He protects people, no matter what the cost."

"Let's hope he is able to prove himself on the battlefield."

"I don't think we should be skeptical about his unique abilities. He looks like he really knows how to get the job done."

When Outlaw didn't respond, Sniper continued, "He seems to be the sort of man who would-"

"Shh!"

Outlaw's aggressive whisper caught Sniper's attention. He turned to see Outlaw, who stared at something in the distance. Snipe gazed at Outlaw's direction and saw someone in the middle of a dark corridor. The stranger took slow steps, and he moved closer towards Sniper and Outlaw. Even though the stranger was still far away, Sniper noticed its blue overalls.

A BLU mercenary…

Slowly, Sniper brandished his bow and arrow. The BLU mercenary finally revealed himself in the illuminated solitude of the full moon. Sniper could clearly recognize him as a BLU Pyro, but something was different. His overalls were drenched in some form of black liquid. The BLU Pyro continued to walk closer towards them. Outlaw lowered his acoustic guitar and pulled out a stick of dynamite from his coat pocket.

Sniper whispered, "On the count of three…we make our move."

But Sniper didn't have time to count to three. The BLU Pyro raised his hand, and a ball of fire had somehow ejected from his glove. The fireball was about to hit the Sniper and Outlaw. Both men threw themselves away from the oncoming projectile. The fireball hit the wooden wall, and suddenly, a fraction of the wall had caught fire. Sniper brandished an arrow for his bow. Outlaw laid his guitar on the ground and lit the dynamite fuse with his lighter. Sniper aimed his arrow at the BLU Pyro and released it from the bow. The BLU Pyro moved out of the way and dodged it. Outlaw threw the stick of dynamite, but it barely missed as the BLU Pyro ran away just as it exploded.

Sniped called out, "Help! Need some help here!"

The flame that scorched the wall behind them grew bigger. The sirens wailed all across the RED fortress. Right about now, everyone would discover that there was an intruder.

Outlaw rejoined Sniper amidst the start of possible pandemonium. He blurted, "How did that Pyro do that?"

"Bloody hell, I don't know!"

Femme Fatale arrived with her AK-47 in her hands. She asked, "Did you see him?"

Outlaw replied, "We most certainly did. He went that way."

He pointed at a long corridor. All three of them ran in that direction. Outlaw explained that he and Sniper had just seen the BLU Pyro throw a fireball without even using a flamethrower. Femme Fatale looked just as perplexed as they did.

They stopped near the warehouse and noticed a trail of black liquid that reached the front entrance.

Sniper whispered, "He must be in the warehouse. Be careful."

Sniper pulled out his machete. Outlaw pulled out another stick of dynamite from his coat pocket. Femme Fatale held her assault rifle tightly.

Sniper opened the door and they led themselves inside the warehouse. The entire building appeared moderately sized. All of the lights from the ceiling were on. Twenty-five long rows of shelves carried everything from boxes to barrels. The BLU Pyro would have to be around here somewhere. Sniper and Femme Fatale kept looking up to see if the intruder would possibly jump from above the shelves to attack again. All three of them separated when they reached the center of the warehouse. Sniper kept a sharp lookout for the intruder. He looked everywhere, from up to down, from left to right. There was not a trace of black liquid anywhere, which seemed rather odd. As soon as he reached the far end of the shelves, the distant sounds of footsteps prompted him to turn around. The BLU Pyro stood still at the other side of the shelves. Sniper prepared himself for an attack.

The BLU Pyro raised his hand again, and another fireball appeared and headed straight towards the Sniper at a quick pace. Sniper had just enough time to jump out of the way. The fireball hit the wall, leaving yet another scorched spot. Sniper quickly pulled out his bow and arrow. He launched an arrow straight at the BLU Pyro, who pointed his finger at the incoming projectile. The arrow immediately stopped and stayed floating in the air. Sniper could only watch as the arrow burst into flames and dropped to the floor. The BLU Pyro must be using some deadly psychic powers. All of a sudden, a small object flew up in the air and landed right in front of the BLU Pyro, who covered his eyes with his arm just as the Femme Fatale's flash grenade exploded with a bright flash of light.

Sniper threw down his bow and brandished his SMG. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, a hand lay on his shoulder. Sniper turned around and saw the RED Pyro shaking his head.

"Mmmhmm-mmrm."

Sniper stepped away as RED Pyro brandished his axe. The BLU Pyro did the same. Sniper stepped aside. Both Pyros ran towards each other with great speed. Femme Fatale and Outlaw joined the Sniper, and they watched as the BLU and RED Pyros battled each other with their melee weapons.

Outlaw remarked, "How do we kill this man?"

Sniper had a wild idea. "We have to distract him! Victoria, try to catch his attention with your AK-47."

Femme Fatale nodded and ran away. Sniper and Outlaw hid behind the shelves as the confrontation between two pyromaniacs went on.

"Give me some dynamite."

Outlaw handed Sniper one stick of dynamite. Sniper attached it to one of his arrows and wrapped a piece of string around it, tying it in a knot. Then, he took a peek of the two Pyros. The BLU Pyro kicked the RED Pyro in the stomach, and the latter collapsed on the ground. The BLU Pyro raised his axe, but he couldn't annihilate his opponent, because the Femme Fatale stood on the top shelf and pointed her AK-47 at him.

"Don't you _ever_ kick him again!"

The BLU Pyro prepared himself to throw yet another fireball. Sniper quickly picked up his bow, which was lying on the floor. Outlaw lit the fuse with his lighter and watched as Sniper aimed the arrow at the BLU Pyro's head. The BLU Pyro didn't see the Australian firing the arrow/dynamite with his bow. He didn't even have time to react when the arrow pierced through his forehead. A half second later, the dynamite exploded, and so did the BLU Pyro's head and shoulders. The lower half of his body collapsed on the floor. RED Pyro stood up. Femme Fatale climbed down the shelves.

Sniper, Femme Fatale, Outlaw, and Pyro gathered together and observed the gruesome corpse.

Outlaw whispered, "I guess Victoria was right after all."

Distant footsteps grew louder, and Weatherman arrived in the warehouse. He stopped dead at his tracks and saw the BLU Pyro's corpse.

He asked, "Are there more intruders other than this one?"

Femme Fatale shook her head. "No, this is the only one."

"He doesn't look very threatening."

Sniper replied, "Trust me, mate. He was _very_ close to killing us all."

* * *

Everyone in the RED Team joined together outside of the warehouse. Sniper and Outlaw dragged the incomplete body of the BLU Pyro outside for everyone to see. Most of the team members gathered around in a circle, completely surrounding the corpse. Soldier and Engineer carried fire extinguishers, quite possibly to clear away the flames that the BLU Pyro had caused several minutes ago. Medic crouched down and observed the black liquid that stuck onto the blue overalls.

"It is very strange."

Rocketeer asked, "Do you have any idea what the black liquid is?"

"It looks like tar, but it smells like something else. I think it's best that ve do not touch it at all."

Everyone backed away a little.

Engineer asked Sniper, "Are you sure he threw fireballs with his _own hands_?"

Outlaw replied, "I know it sounds absurd, but he truly did."

Pyro added, "Mmhmm-mmhmm-mmhmmrmmmrmrmmm-mmhmm."

Spy rubbed his chin. "So unlike a _Hadouken_, these fireballs were incredibly massive."

"Mmhmmh."

Femme Fatale proclaimed, "It's just as I suspected. There is something strange going on at the BLU Base. This BLU Pyro had obviously grown more powerful. He was barely human."

Assassin remarked, "This is starting to freak me out a little."

Engineer replied, "You're not alone, Yvonne. I'm almost afraid to see what's goin' on at the other side of the woods."

Bodyguard raised his eyebrows. "But now we must. It looks like the BLU Team is going to outmaneuver us if we do not discover the truth as soon as possible."

Heavy stood beside the Saudi Arabian. "Man is right. We must go on new mission."

Spy asked Femme Fatale where the BLU Pyro entered the fortress. She led all of them to the exact location. They saw a circular hole on the fence, the blackened wood looking as if it had been recently scorched. The other side of the fence was an endless array of trees and bushes.

Soldier announced, "Gentlemen, ladies, I do believe it's best that we pay the BLU Team a little visit."

Everyone acknowledged. All of them returned to the barracks. They put on their uniforms, and armed themselves with their personal arsenal. Assassin loaded her Dual Pistols with new clips. Rocketeer strapped his jetpack behind his back. Scout chose his Force-A-Nature over his original Scattergun. Pyro made sure that his Flamethrower contained enough fuel for the fire. Sniper switched his Huntsman bow with his vintage Sniper Rifle. Soldier carried enough rockets for his Black Box. Demoman took a sip of alcohol before he loaded four grenades in his Grenade Launcher. Heavy cracked his knuckles before he picked up his Minigun. Femme Fatale re-adjusted her Grappling Hook for future use. And Bodyguard wiped his Automatic Shotgun with a hand cloth. He also waved his huge Scimitar around as practice before he placed it back in its holster. He whispered to himself, "Tonight is going to be a good night."

Everyone returned to the BLU Pyro's original entrance. Bodyguard asked, "How far is the BLU fort?"

Heavy replied, "It is about five miles away."

"Why can't we use the trucks?"

"We cannot. Enemy Pyro destroyed them."

Assassin didn't look amused. "So we're gonna have to _walk_ to the BLU fort?"

Heavy replied, "Everyone could use bit of exercise."

Scout smiled. "Hey, _I'm_ game."

Engineer added, "I just hope everyone has their flashlights with 'em."

Pyro gave a thumbs-up. Everyone else nodded.

Spy adjusted his tie. "So, ladies and gentlemen, it is now time to fulfill our newest mission."

Soldier gave a frown. "_I_ was gonna say that, Frenchie."

Bodyguard was the first to enter the woods. "I shall see if it is safe."

A few minutes later, he returned and said, "It is secure."

Everyone else joined him. All fifteen members of the RED Team left their fort and wandered deeper into the dark forest.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	9. A few updates on new classes

Here are some changes made to the new classes:

-Instead of overalls, the Rocketeer wears a red/blue-colored jumpsuit (I meant to say "jumpsuit," but I got it mixed up with "overalls." I'm so stupid...)

-Weatherman wears a red/blue headband around his forehead

-Sprinting Speed: Outlaw runs as fast as Pyro

-Sprinting Speed: Rocketeer runs as fast as Medic

-Sprinting Speed: Assassin runs slower than Scout, and about as fast as Spy

-Rocketeer's melee weapon (Tire Iron) does up to 50 Damage/150 Crit Damage

-Assassin's melee weapon (Traditional Mongolian Spear) does up to 45 Damage/140 Crit Damage

-Outlaw's melee weapon (Cattle Prod) does up to 60 Damage/180 Crit Damage

-Weatherman's melee weapon (Sledgehammer) does up to 60 Damage/180 Crit Damage

* * *

Part Three of "Meet the BODYGUARD" will be published soon, so keep a sharp lookout for it


	10. Meet the BODYGUARD, Part Three

Meet the BODYGUARD (continued)

* * *

With flashlights that illuminated the gloomy forest, the entire RED Team wandered through familiar territory. Everyone had to be careful, since a BLU mercenary could have more tricks up their sleeves. Sniper and Femme Fatale still couldn't get over the BLU Pyro's metamorphosis, but this would stimulate the fervor of their objective even more, as hidden truths in the BLU base could be uncovered within the hour.

Even as they stayed close together, the RED Team separated themselves at least a few feet apart from each other. Heavy, Bodyguard, and Medic became the ones who led the group onwards to their destination.

Amidst the crickets chirping, Spy was given full details on the BLU Pyro's "Demolition Concerto" as Outlaw took charge of the narrative. As they continued walking, Spy commented, "It sounds to me like he has experienced mutation, possibly from a chemical."

Outlaw replied, "But I don't know anything about a chemical that would make you turn more lethal against your adversaries."

"I'm not a scientist, but I am convinced that someone at the BLU base has produced some secret substance that enhances certain capabilities."

With his Lightning Launcher in his hands, Weatherman joined in on the conversation. "Did I hear something about a secret substance?"

Spy kept his voice low, so as not to catch the attention of a possible opponent in the distance. "I was commenting on the possibility of mutation that is caused by a manmade elixir."

"I'm not a scientist, but that sounds intriguing already."

Outlaw asked, "But who would be smart and careful enough as to create something of that sort?"

Spy replied, "That would be the reason why we are paying the BLU Team a visit."

Sniper also joined in on the conversation. "I couldn't help but overhear what you were saying, and I just had a scary thought."

Weatherman asked, "What is it?"

"If the BLU Pyro was already transformed into a more menacing killing machine, then the rest of the BLU Team must've already taken this so-called elixir for themselves."

Outlaw raised an eyebrow. "That _is_ a scary thought."

Spy almost tripped on a rock, but regained his balance and acted like nothing ever happened. "Let's not excite ourselves just yet, gentlemen. We still haven't met an intimidating BLU Heavy or a rapid BLU Assassin."

Weatherman added, "But they would be watching us right now…watching as they wait to make their move."

Outlaw cleared his throat. "Do you suspect something?"

Spy almost laughed. "Either that or he's just being slightly paranoid."

Weatherman gave an almost iniquitous stare. "What? Didn't I ever tell you about my sixth sense?"

"You mean the one about your pancreas?"

"Not that. I mean—"

"There's no time for you to explain it. We must carry on."

* * *

With one of her Pistols in its holster, Assassin held the other Pistol in her right hand and the flashlight in the other, which she swung from left to right as she observed the trees and bushes. She didn't see Scout walking from behind. He tapped her on the shoulder and said, "Are ya afraid of the dark?"

Assassin shook her head. "Of course, not. Would that be a problem?"

Scout walked beside her. "Ah, no problem. I was just hoping that you'd want a man to comfort ya when you experience a little fright now and then."

Assassin rolled her eyes. "How can you think of comforting me at a time when we're about to uncover a dirty little secret?"

Scout chuckled. "Didn't ya enjoy a little company when we tried to take the Intel?"

She gave a little half smile and lowered the volume of her voice. "I have to admit, I had a good time back then."

"Of course, ya did. You know you can't help but get a load of a guy like me."

As he showed off his right bicep, Assassin uttered, "You're not gonna try to show off your quick reflexes when we're at the BLU base, are you?"

"Now, why would I do that?"

"I just have a little hunch."

"Nah, I wouldn't want to show off to a pretty woman like you."

As they continued babbling on about love or something like it, Rocketeer kept a close ear as he was at least twenty feet behind them. When he heard Scout saying something about a first date, the Mongolian man in a jumpsuit walked a little faster.

Scout remarked to Assassin, "When this is over, how 'bout I take you out for a steak dinner?"

When he caught up with them, Rocketeer whispered in Scout's ear, "Keep this up, and I'll send your ass back to Boston."

Assassin blurted, "Stop it, Jason."

Rocketeer murmured, "I'm just looking out for my little sis. Don't blame me for caring about my family."

Scout smiled. "Calm down, buddy. It's not like we're gonna elope or anything. What, you think she's gonna dishonor your father and mother by giving birth to Celtics fans?"

Rocketeer loosened his grip on his STEN submachine gun. "That's not what I'm worried about."

"Then just let it go. This isn't High School. We're smarter than that."

Assassin said to Rocketeer, "He's right, Jason. I'm a little sick and tired of your paranoia sometimes."

"Well, at least try to make it look innocent. Sometimes it looks like Fred Mertz's version of Romeo & Juliet."

"Buddy, let me tell ya somethin'," Scout laid a hand on Rocketeer's shoulder. "I'm not the kinda guy who would take a woman like her for granted. I ain't one of those polygamy-type fellas. I'm just your average Bostonian who believes in simple moral values."

He stepped on a beetle as he continued, "Believe me, I'm as smart and courageous as everyone else in America. Yeah, there's always a time when I hurt people, but that's because it's our _job_ to hurt people."

"What you're saying is that you'll be on your best behavior when you're with my sister."

"You sure know how to understand simple things like this. Now, what do ya think?"

"I'll tell you after you hit yourself with the tree that's right in front of you."

Scout kept his gaze on Rocketeer for so long that he didn't see the enormous tree that stood right in front of him. He didn't have time to react as he collided head-on against the tree. He almost fell to the ground. Assassin and Rocketeer kept walking forward with smiles on their faces.

Scout quickly caught up with them. "So, uh…what do ya think?"

Rocketeer replied, "I'll give you an answer when this is all over."

* * *

Medic noticed the Ruby Talisman that hung around Bodyguard's neck. He pointed his flashlight at it and asked, "Where did you get that?"

Bodyguard replied, "I found it in the deserts of my home country. They say that it belonged to a sorcerer from the Ottoman Empire."

"From vat I have read in ze history books, ze Ottoman Empire began in Turkey."

"That is correct, Ludwig. The sorcerer may have been exiled by a sultan and died from dehydration in the Saudi Arabian desert."

Heavy asked, "How would you know all of this?"

"A friend of mine told me of its power."

"And who would that be?"

"Ethan Fortier, he is French."

"So is Spy."

Medic asked, "Is he also a bodyguard like you?"

Bodyguard replied, "No, he is someone I have met on my visit to Paris. He is a biochemist for the French government…or at least he was the last time I saw him."

"Vat did he say about ze Talisman?"

Bodyguard held in his hand the Talisman for the Heavy and Medic to see. "It is a sacred weapon that can only be used in the most appropriate moments in times of need."

Heavy seemed excited. "Does it shoot bolts of lightning?"

"No, it does not. Let me just say that it gives us the power to stay alive in a chaotic shamble of bullets and grenades."

"It is like bodyguard, like how _you_ are bodyguard."

"Yes, Boris, you can say that."

* * *

Everyone continued on. They now ascended up a hillside where fewer trees and bushes were present. It now looked like a savannah than a forest. It would take at least forty more minutes for the RED Team to reach the BLU fort. The evening breeze, which was cool and comfortable, grew quicker. Weatherman looked up at the clear night sky. Not a cloud in sight. The wind's velocity grew even more. The man started to feel suspicious.

Medic thought he heard whispers in the wind. He tried to concentrate on what the mysterious distant voice. He could barely hear the words, but he caught a few: "…_the darkness above…no escape…to your death_."

Engineer looked up to the sky. He noticed clouds coming in from the south. But something didn't seem right. The cumulus clouds moved at a much faster pace than expected. It was almost as though they had been caught in a time lapse. He tapped his finger on Sniper's shoulder. "Do ya see that?"

They looked up as the cumulus clouds above them flew right past them.

But then, when Rocketeer looked up, he saw a pretty scary sight. Storm clouds from the south drew closer at a quickened pace. By now, everyone saw it. They stopped walking and watched as the full moon vanished behind the incoming storm clouds. The place grew darker.

Heavy asked the Medic, "Could this be from BLU Team?!"

Medic didn't say a word as the night sky became enveloped by endless stretches of dark clouds.

Weatherman stated, "I think I know who's responsible for this."

Soldier tightened his grip on is Black Box. "Everyone, keep a sharp lookout! And keep your flashlights on!"

Even as they stayed close together, they pointed their flashlights at all directions, hoping to see an enemy somewhere in the distance.

Medic could still hear soft voices. The words were now audible. "_You will burn. You will suffer. You will expire_."

Quick flashes of far-away lightning began to appear.

Engineer asked Weatherman, "So, is this all familiar to you?"

Weatherman responded, "It's _very_ familiar."

Rocketeer pointed his flashlight at a random direction, and gasped when he thought he saw a woman with wavy dark hair. She seemed to have disappeared amidst the rays of light.

Assassin whispered, "Did you see something?"

"I thought I saw a woman…a very scary-looking woman."

Demoman said to himself, "I think I need a drink."

All of a sudden, a bolt of lightning from the clouds above struck a lone tree. Everyone ducked and closed their eyes from the ear-piercing sound and the blinding flash of light. They watched as the tree was lit on fire. The flames brightened the area a bit more.

Footsteps from far away caused Sniper to point his flashlight at the direction of the sound. Something had been caught in the ray of light. Everyone turned their attention away from the flames and focused on what the Sniper had captured with his flashlight.

A BLU Weatherman drew closer towards the RED Team. In another direction, a BLU Outlaw took several steps closer. A BLU Soldier revealed himself from the darkness, and a BLU Femme Fatale stepped out of the shadows. She must have been the one the Rocketeer had seen for a split second. The four BLU mercenaries surrounded the RED Team in all four directions.

Heavy declared, "This is not too hard."

Bodyguard shook his head. "Look at their eyes."

Heavy took examined the BLU Femme Fatale that stood at least twenty feet away from them.

"Her eyes…they are not normal."

Heavy was correct. Both of her irises were gone. Her eyes were entirely white. The rest of her body became much worse. Black liquid had been drenched on her clothing. Her wavy black hair appeared moist, as if she had just left the shower without using a towel for her head. She held a Straight Razor in her right hand. She looked like a complete maniac with this specific appearance.

"She is not normal…"

In fact, the other BLU mercenaries also had white eyes, and their uniforms had been drenched in the same black liquid. The BLU Outlaw slowly brandished his lighter. He opened the lid and drew a small flame. He raised the lighter up to his mouth. He took a deep breath and slowly blew on the flame. Instantly, flames appeared on the grass and grew in size. The thick line of fire headed towards the RED Team. Those who stood in front of the incoming flames leaped to the side to prevent being burned to a crisp. The fiery line didn't end as it went on towards the forest behind them.

Everyone in the RED Team now wanted to use their arsenal against their opponents. But somehow, the four BLU mercenaries disappeared without a single trace.

Soldier became infuriated. "That does it! Everyone split up! Let's take these mutant bastards down one at a time!"

Most of the RED Team obliged. Heavy, Medic, and Bodyguard went one way. Engineer, Sniper, and Outlaw went another. Soldier and Pyro entered the forest together. Femme Fatale and Spy ran alone.

Weatherman and Demoman looked a bit puzzled. Scout blurted, "I thought we weren't supposed to split up!"

Weatherman replied, "Sometimes it's necessary to do a little improvisation."

At that exact moment, several rows of trees from the forest behind them had been lit up in flames.

Demoman yelled, "Bloody hell! They're fighting without us!"

Weatherman asked Scout, "Are you coming with us?"

"Hey, you go your way. I'm sticking with the Mongolians."

"Your choice." Weatherman and Demoman ran in the opposite direction and headed straight towards the forest.

Rocketeer and Assassin caught up with Scout. Assassin asked, "Why aren't we following _those_ guys?"

"I think we're wastin' our time here. We gotta get to the BLU fort as quick as possible."

"Shouldn't we stop our opponents first?"

"Everyone else is trying to do it. I think it's a better idea that we find out what's going on. Look, the BLU guys must be taking some kind of drugs or somethin' to make them feel stronger. We're gonna have to find out what it is and destroy it…or at least steal it for future use."

Rocketeer gave a nod. "The man's right. If we find out what's making these BLU mercenaries stronger, then we might use it against them."

Assassin asked, "But what about your buddies?"

Scout replied, "They'll be okay. They know what they're doin'…I hope."

Rocketeer uttered, "And I hope you know the way to the BLU fort."

"Don't worry. I've been there plenty of times. Just follow me."

TO BE CONTINUED…


	11. Meet the BODYGUARD, Part Four

Meet the BODYGUARD (continued)

* * *

Constant bursts of lightning became a common sight in the cloud-infested sky. This didn't affect the Spy's psyche. He concentrated on the BLU mercenaries whom have been mutated by either a mysterious formula or a mythological entity. He wandered alone through the forest, with the rapidly spreading wildfire located just a half a mile away. He remained careful as he held his Revolver in his right hand. He kept his Invisibility Watch in check. He tried to keep quiet so he could hear even the most obscure noises in the night, especially when the thunder ceased for a few seconds. He glanced left and right, and saw none of his adversaries in sight.

A twig snapping caused him to turn on his Invisibility Watch. He adjusted himself into thin air. When he vanished completely, he caught of glimpse of all directions. He couldn't see anybody. He looked up and saw not a single living creature up in the trees. He looked down to see if he snapped the twig himself, and found only a couple of undamaged sticks on the ground. The snapping twig gave him a permanent sense of suspicion. Someone, or something, had obviously tried to follow him. He walked away and hid behind a tree before turning off his Watch. His body returned to reality.

He leaned against the tree. He tried to listen to faint footsteps amidst the thunder. All he could hear, however, was the chaotic sounds of the heavens. But then, he caught a brief clatter of rhythmic tapping sounds. It sounded like a pair of faint-sounding metronomes that clicked at the same time. As it grew louder, Spy realized that it came from above. He looked up and saw the BLU Femme Fatale (complete with white eyes and wet black hair) crawling down the trunk of the tree.

With quick speed, he threw himself away from the tree and aimed his Revolver at his female opponent. But she quickly dodged a bullet by jumping straight down to the ground. She stood straight and brandished her Straight Razor. Spy fired a few more rounds. The BLU Femme Fatale dodged them all with quick strafing movements. Spy tried hard to focus on his target despite her rapid physical velocity. His last bullet ricocheted off of her Straight Razor. She dropped her weapon to the floor.

They stood still and stared at each other. The eyes of the BLU Femme Fatale narrowed. Spy placed his Revolver back in its holster and pulled out his Butterfly Knife. BLU Femme Fatale didn't go for her Razor, however. She showed her fingers to Spy. He watched as her fingernails grew several more inches, as if they transformed into a mutant tiger's claws. They appeared sharp and lethal.

Spy took a deep breath. His years of training with a knife should hopefully come in handy. BLU Femme Fatale charged at Spy. She slashed at him with her long sharp fingernails, while Spy dodged them with his Knife. They fought each other with agile strength. Spy slowly began to struggle with his self-defense. BLU Femme Fatale constantly tried to scratch him to death with both of her hands, something that Spy couldn't actually handle with just one knife. They continued to fight, until she finally slashed his hand that held the Knife. Spy dropped his Knife in pain. BLU Femme Fatale raised her fingernails and was about to strike him again.

The sounds of gunfire led to the severing of her fingers. She screamed. Spy gave a sidelong glance at Bodyguard who held his Automatic Shotgun in his hands. BLU Femme Fatale climbed up a tree with swift speed. Bodyguard pulled the trigger, and continuous charges of scattered pellets reached the boughs. She jumped from branch to branch, always avoiding a direct hit. When Bodyguard stopped firing, she stood still on a large bough. She growled in an almost menacing manner. Bodyguard laid his Automatic Shotgun on the ground and brandished his Scimitar. She gave a howling scream as she jumped off the branch and lunged straight towards him. Bodyguard readied himself. As she revealed her remaining fingernails, he swung his Scimitar at the woman. The blade hit her neck, and as a result, her head had been disconnected from the rest of her body. BLU Femme Fatale's body collapsed on the floor, and her head rolled away and stopped moving when it hit a boulder.

Bodyguard opened a bottle of water and poured its content on his blade, washing the blood away from the surface.

Spy remarked, "I could have done this without your help, Nazir."

Bodyguard almost laughed. "My job is to protect you, and I have done it well."

Heavy and Medic arrived a few seconds later. Medic observed the BLU Femme Fatale's headless cadaver. "Vat happened to her fingernails?"

Spy picked up his Butterfly Knife from the ground. "She has undergone some sort of mutation. The entire BLU Team has transformed into powerful entities."

"But how?"

Bodyguard replied, "We should ask questions later. Right now, we must search for the others."

Heavy proclaimed, "He is right! We must go."

The three of them ran together and tried to seek the remaining BLU mercenaries who tried to overwhelm the RED Team with their aggressive antics.

They ran around the fiery trees and came across an injured Demoman running from something. With a limping leg, he caught up with the trio. Medic tended to his wounds. Bodyguard asked him, "Was there anyone else with you?"

"Shane was with me, but now he is fighting with that bloody BLU Weatherman that almost broke my leg."

At the moment, bolts of lightning struck various trees from a half mile away. Bodyguard brandished his Automatic Shotgun and asked, "Will all of you be okay if I left you alone?"

Heavy replied, "Go. I have this under control."

Bodyguard gave a nod and ran towards the area where the bolts of lightning continued to strike more trees. From a distance, he saw Soldier firing rockets from his Black Box at something out of his line of vision. As Soldier reloaded his weapon, a bolt of lightning struck a tree that stood several yards away from him. The blinding light caused him to groan and fall to the ground. When Bodyguard reached him, the man with the helmet shook his head and stood up again.

"Troy, are you all right?"

Soldier fired more rockets at his primary target. "I'll live for now."

"Where is Shane?"

"The last time I saw him, he was trying to take down the BLU Weatherman."

Various trees had erupted in flames. Soldier and Bodyguard moved away from the impending environmental damage that took place.

"Who were you firing at?"

"I was trying to kill that BLU weather freak, but he's too strong."

Bodyguard took out something from his coat pocket. "If we are to confront him again, then I suggest you take this."

It was an aspirin bottle.

Soldier stated, "But I don't have a headache."

"It's not aspirin. The pills inside this bottle are called _steroids_."

Soldier seemed a little shocked. "Steroids? Americans don't take steroids."

"You will need this if you want to overwhelm your enemies. Take it. It will be of good use."

Soldier unwillingly took the Bottle of Steroids from Bodyguard.

Suddenly, from the west, Pyro ran at their direction. He held his Flamethrower in his hands and he sounded exhausted.

Bodyguard told him, "If you need Ludwig, just head south."

Pyro ran and left them alone. Soldier carried his Black Box on his shoulders and told Bodyguard, "Let's go!"

The two of them ran into the direction of where Soldier launched his rockets. Bodyguard looked up to the sky and noticed that grayness still dominated the heavens. If BLU Weatherman would be defeated, then the night sky would grow normal again.

Soldier and Bodyguard stopped running when they saw BLU Weatherman standing on top of a towering boulder. He gave a smile. Soldier and Bodyguard looked at each other and separated. They ran in opposite directions and scurried around the boulder. BLU Weatherman focused on Soldier, who fired his rockets at his adversary. BLU Weatherman pointed his index finger at the incoming rockets. When he whispered the word "_Bang_" three times, short bursts of gale winds threw the rockets back at Soldier. Soldier ran as fast as he could to avoid getting hit by his own projectiles. The rockets landed on the dirt floor and exploded.

Meanwhile, Bodyguard was about to fire his Shotgun, but quickly spotted BLU Soldier charging at him with his Equalizer pickaxe. Bodyguard used his Scimitar to avoid a stab to a head. Both he and BLU Soldier fought each other with their melee weapons. RED Soldier joined in from the other direction. Bodyguard took a few steps back as RED and BLU Soldier fought each other with their pickaxes. Bodyguard turned his attention to the BLU Weatherman who still stood on top of the boulder. BLU Weatherman made a circular twirling motion with his index finger. Winds slowly grew stronger. Leaves caught in the swift-moving air began to float and spin around the BLU Weatherman. Bodyguard knew what was about to happen. BLU Weatherman tried to produce a tornado, with him right in the center. This way, he would be protected by the strong gale winds that circled all around him. Bodyguard would have to take his attention away from BLU Weatherman. He held on to a tree trunk as he watched RED Soldier and BLU Soldier moving away from the area, still fighting with their Equalizers.

Bodyguard watched as the gray clouds above began to swirl. BLU Weatherman gave a cold hard stare at the Saudi Arabian man. Bodyguard didn't say a word as he saw Spy standing behind BLU Weatherman, his Invisibility wearing off. Bodyguard smiled and mouthed the words, "Good night."

Spy stabbed BLU Weatherman in the back with his Butterfly Knife. Suddenly, the wind stopped and the clouds stopped swirling. BLU Weatherman winced in pain. Femme Fatale appeared from the trees. She jumped off a bough and landed on the floor. She pointed her Pistol at the BLU Weatherman's head and pulled the trigger. Spy moved out of the way. The bullet tore through flesh and bone. With a bullet hole on his forehead, BLU Weatherman fell off the boulder and landed head first on the floor.

Everything turned quiet. The clouds above dissolved, and the clear night sky could be seen again. Bodyguard wasted no time in following the Soldier's path. He found him alone near an old log.

"Are you hurt, Troy?"

Soldier shook his head. "I'll be fine, Nazir."

"Where is BLU Soldier?"

"He ran off like a Frenchman on his honeymoon."

"Why would he do that?"

"I don't know. I don't have time to think of things like that."

With BLU Weatherman and BLU Femme Fatale dead, everyone gathered around again as the skies had cleared. Sniper informed them that BLU Outlaw had escaped and ran off. Soldier responded by saying that his opponent did the same.

Heavy asked, "Where is Simon?"

Sniper looked around. "And where are Jason and Yvonne?"

Weatherman replied, "The last time I saw Simon, he said he would stay with Jason and Yvonne. I saw them heading north."

Femme Fatale commented, "They must be heading towards the BLU base."

Engineer frowned. "Darn it, they should've waited for us!"

Bodyguard reloaded his clip for his Automatic Shotgun. "This must be why BLU Soldier and BLU Outlaw ran off. They must sense that their fort is being infiltrated."

"Sounds to me like they _do_ have some kind of a sixth sense."

"We must go there at once."

Sniper asked Demoman, "Will you be fine, mate?"

Demoman shook his leg. "I've still got it."

Soldier put his helmet back on. "All right, fellas…and ladies. Let's go!"

TO BE CONTINUED…


	12. Domination Lines

DOMINATION LINES

Rocketeer (after dominating enemy Scout): Dominated, Bride of Frankenstein!

Rocketeer (after dominating enemy Scout): The Force-A-Nature is knocked out by the new guy. That is very _sad_.

Scout (after dominating enemy Rocketeer): Hollywood ain't got nothin' on me!

Scout (to enemy Rocketeer): How 'bout makin' a documentary about how much _you suck_?!

Rocketeer (to enemy Soldier): You know the difference between you and me? I don't hurt myself when I'm flying!

Rocketeer (to enemy Soldier, Engineer, or Demoman): You fight like a has-been actor!

Soldier (to enemy Rocketeer): Dominated, Peter Pan!

Soldier (to enemy Rocketeer): Face it, city boy. Movie stars will _always_ have time to bleed!

Outlaw (when enemy Pyro is killed by a Molotov cocktail): The King of Fire is killed by fire! Oh, the irony!

Outlaw (to enemy Spy): From Frenchman to French toast! Haha!

Assassin (to enemy Scout): That'll make up for our first date!

Scout (to enemy Assassin): No such luck, sweetheart. I don't do second dates.

Soldier (to enemy Assassin and Femme Fatale): Dominating a _woman_ never felt _so good_!

Weatherman (when enemy Engineer or Sniper is killed by Lightning Launcher): Lesson learned. _Never_ stay put during a thunderstorm.

Outlaw (to enemy Demoman): Next time, just throw your grenades with your _hands_!

Femme Fatale (to enemy Scout, Rocketeer, and Assassin): Anything you can do, I can do better.

Scout (to enemy Bodyguard): If you didn't want your steroids, you should've just told me.

Soldier (to enemy Assassin and Femme Fatale): Nice try, toots.

Weatherman (to enemy Demoman, Soldier, and Outlaw): I see cloudy skies with a hundred percent chance of _Domination_!

Spy (to enemy Femme Fatale): Aw…and I was really hoping to get to know you more.

Assassin (to enemy Femme Fatale): Gone and forgotten!

Demoman (to enemy Outlaw): My grenade is bigger than yours!

* * *

MISCELLANEOUS LINES

Rocketeer: I could sure use a Teleporter right about now!

Rocketeer: Does anybody have a Dispenser I could use?

Rocketeer: What we need now is a Sentry!

Rocketeer/Assassin (Negative remark): That's it! I'm going back to Hollywood!

Outlaw (Positive remark): I shall buy drinks for all of you!

Femme Fatale (Positive Remark): I am beginning to enjoy your company.

* * *

Meet the BODYGUARD (Part Five) coming soon…


	13. Meet the BODYGUARD, Part Five

Meet the BODYGUARD (continued)

* * *

Scout, Assassin, and Rocketeer reached their destination after their brief encounter with BLU mercenaries. The BLU base was fairly larger than the RED, with concrete buildings and metal furnishings. It was fortunate for the trio to find that the front entrance had been left wide open. Scout, Assassin, and Rocketeer entered the BLU base. They kept themselves cautious, as any more of those BLU mercenaries might strike them down if they didn't use their heads.

Silently, they snuck through infamous territory. Rocketeer looked behind him. The grey clouds in the distance had disappeared. The pandemonium must have ended.

They walked through a long corridor. They turned off their flashlights and kept away from the street lights to avoid being noticed by BLU mercenaries.

Assassin whispered, "So what do you think we're gonna find in this place?"

Scout replied, "I don't know. Maybe we'll find out what's making these BLU guys go goat-piss crazy, and then I'll be promoted to Captain. You could be my lovely Lieutenant."

Assassin gave a half smile.

Rocketeer frowned. "That sounds like wishful thinking."

Scout chuckled. "At least I'm thinking."

When they turned the corner, they stopped walking and backed away. A BLU mercenary had just been spotted several yards away. Scout, Assassin, and Rocketeer hid behind a wall. Scout took a peek at the man who they had just hid from. The BLU Demoman stared at the night sky while holding a bottle of liquor in his hand. Scout could see his one eye had gone completely white, and his clothes had been drenched in black liquid. The BLU Demoman took a slow sip of liquor. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and threw the bottle up in the air. Scout could see it was thrown at a very unusually high distance. It flew right out of BLU territory and over the fence. It landed near a row of trees. The BLU Demoman tightened his fists and took a deep breath. It looked as if he was preparing himself for battle.

Assassin asked, "What's he doing?"

Scout shook his head. "I have no idea."

But then, BLU Soldier and BLU Outlaw arrived just in time for BLU Demoman to appear pumped and ready for battle. BLU Soldier said something with a ghoulish (and rather distorted) baritone voice. Scout couldn't hear what he just said, but he had a feeling that it didn't sound like good news for the team. BLU Demoman growled. Scout kept watching as the BLU trio left the area, disappearing into a building. Black-colored footprints had been left on the asphalt.

Scout remarked to his two teammates, "Well, they know we're here."

Rocketeer tapped his fingers on his STEN. "It looks like we've got a cat-and-mouse game coming up."

For the next few minutes, Scout, Assassin, and Rocketeer kept hiding behind boxes, crates, and walls in order to avoid being seen by the enemy. BLU Soldier, BLU Outlaw, and BLU Demoman kept their eyes open whenever they suspected something out of the ordinary. The RED Trio hid behind a row of barrels in a corner.

Assassin said, "I couldn't see an entrance to a laboratory."

Rocketeer added, "Me, neither."

Scout scratched his head, trying to think of where a laboratory would be located. "Maybe there's one on the second floor. Hey, Jason, why don't you check the rooftops?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. Even BLU mercenaries can hear the sound of a jetpack running at full power."

"Then, use a ladder or something."

"All right, fine. I'll check the second floors, but I'll be _quiet_."

Assassin replied, "Be careful."

Rocketeer left. Scout and Assassin moved on. They headed towards the center of the BLU Base. They reached the front entrance to a two-story building. Scout and Assassin tried to be as silent as possible when they walked deeper into the edifice. They looked out the window and saw no trace of the BLU mercenaries that were hunting them down. They checked everywhere, and couldn't find a single room which resembled a laboratory.

Scout sighed. "There's gotta be something that we're missing."

Assassin stared at the wall. "Maybe we should check the walls."

"For what?"

"I don't know. Maybe there's a hidden doorway or something?"

"That's just sci-fi crap you're talkin' about."

"Hey, it could happen."

They made their way into a Control Room. There were rows upon rows of buttons, chairs, more buttons, computer keyboards, and even more buttons. A map of the BLU Base had been shown on an enormous projection screen. The image came from a projector attached to the ceiling.

"Let me try something."

Scout typed in certain phrases on a computer keyboard. "If this is the same kind of Control Room in our _own_ fort, then we can see where the BLU bastards are headed."

On the screen, a red dot appeared near the center of the citadel. Scout typed in a phrase that caused the surveillance camera to make a close-up. The map had been enlarged on the projection screen, and now the surveillance camera revealed an image of the Rocketeer standing on a rooftop somewhere, looking for clues. Scout turned off the camera by pressing a yellow circular button near the keyboard. The entire screen went black.

"It looks like your brother is just as confused as I am."

Scout sat in a chair. Assassin murmured, "I don't think we'll ever figure out what the hell's going on around here."

"Maybe the BLU Pyro took a piss in a can of BONK. And everyone drank from it, turning them into freakin' macho mutants from Hell."

Assassin sighed as she sat down in another chair alongside Scout. "That sounds like a movie that Jason and I made once."

"…I saw it at least five times."

Assassin noticed a small and circular blue button situated on the floor, in front of the chair she sat on.

"Hey, Simon?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you see a blue button on the floor, right in front of you?"

Scout took a look. "Yeah, I do."

"What you think will happen when you step on it?"

"I don't know…nuclear holocaust?"

"Sounds good to me."

Assassin pressed the blue button with her foot. Immediately, the ground in front of her opened up. The chair she sat in straightened in a diagonal position, causing Assassin to slide down from it. She screamed as she disappeared into the ground before it closed up again.

Scout yelled, "Hey, don't start without me!"

He stepped on the blue button. The ground below him opened up. The chair straightened in a diagonal position, and Scout slid down the hole.

"Holy crap!"

He now found himself inside a slide, going further down the earth with quick speed. He slid down a clear see-through tube, swirling from left to right. He could only imagine himself riding a long and speedy water slide…but without the water. A few seconds later, he couldn't tell what he was seeing through the clear tube. He saw only brief flashes of white light and even more tubes.

"I'm starting to hate this ride!"

At that exact moment, he finally exited the tube and landed on something soft. He went up and down, as if the ground itself moved up and down.

"Simon, I think we should get off this thing!"

Scout realized that he and Assassin had just landed on a massive mattress filled with water. It was more of an oversized water bed. Due to the never-ending thick movements of the mattress, it took about twenty seconds for both of them to get off it.

Scout asked, "Are you all right?"

Assassin brushed off pieces of lint from her vest. "I'm okay."

Both of them brandished their weapons as they observed the new environment that they had just discovered. They found themselves in a cave filled with stalactites, stalagmites, and columns. Fluorescent lights had been attached to the ceiling.

Assassin seemed astonished. "Did we stumble into the Bat-cave or something?"

The two of them noticed a path that led deeper into the underground lair.

Scout remarked, "I should've brought a can of Atomic Punch with me."

Scout and Assassin took a stroll on the path that might uncover BLU mysteries. In a few seconds, they found a staircase that led further down the lair.

Assassin whispered, "This is getting creepy."

"Let me hold ya."

"Later."

Down at the bottom of the staircase, they ventured into another chamber. But this time, they found enormous pipes hanging from the walls. Scout lightly knocked on one of them. Nothing happened.

"Maybe it's just for plumbing."

They ventured into yet another chamber filled with stalactites, stalagmites, and columns. But it also featured computers and other scientific machinery.

Scout commented, "Looks like the BLU Team isn't as dumb as I thought they'd be."

"How do they even get funding for all of this?"

"Maybe one of them used up all his inheritance money to buy all this crap."

They entered another chamber. It was filled with rows upon rows of file cabinets. It started to look like an underground lair at FBI Headquarters. Scout and Assassin examined one of the file cabinets. Every cabinet had been arranged in alphabetical order. Words like "Fission" and "Hydrogen" had been marked on the drawers.

Assassin whispered, "This is really scary. I think we should get out of here."

Scout didn't hear her. He focused on what must have been distant footsteps. But it sounded so sudden, that it could've been anything.

Assassin asked, "What's wrong?"

Scout held his Force-A-Nature tightly in his hands. "I think we've got company."

Assassin quickly wielded her Dual Pistols. Suddenly, something ran right past them from up above. Scout knew the only BLU class that would run so fast. He caught a glimpse of the opponent running right past the far end of the file cabinets.

Scout yelled out, "Come on, man! That's all you're gonna do? Run around until your legs get sore?! That's just not smart, man."

And then he heard the sound of a BLU Scout charging him from behind. RED Scout turned around and pointed the barrels of his Force-A-Nature to the raging BLU Scout with a Baseball Bat. However, he couldn't squeeze the trigger in time as BLU Scout had taken a quick sprint toward his victims. He swung his Baseball Bat at Assassin's back and RED Scout's shoulder. Both collapsed on the floor, groaning in pain.

RED Scout blurted, "No fair!"

BLU Scout returned and hit RED Scout in the torso. RED Scout flew backwards. Assassin fired one of her Dual Pistols at BLU Scout, but he disappeared before even taking a hit.

RED Scout slowly stood up in pain. "Now he's _really_ pissing me off!"

BLU Scout charged again. RED Scout fired two rounds of his Force-A-Nature at his opponent, who quickly dodged them both by strafing in tight corners. BLU Scout hit him again with his Bat, but this time, in the leg. Assassin stood up and looked all around to see if the BLU Scout was in sight.

She yelled, "He's got a bat, and we've got guns. It shouldn't be so hard."

Scout and Assassin left the room with the file cabinets, and returned to the computer room. There, they encounter their opponent again. BLU Scout, with his white eyes and drenched shirt, held a baseball in his hands. He threw it up in the air and hit it with his Bat. Scout and Assassin jumped out of the way to avoid the incoming projectile. The baseball hit the wall hard, _so_ hard that it tore through ancient stone. Assassin fired three more rounds at BLU Scout. He strafed and ran around in circles at lightning speed. Assassin looked up at the pointy stalactites. Maybe she could defeat him by taking one of them down. BLU Scout lunged at RED Scout, and the two wrestled around on the floor. RED Scout punched him in the stomach. BLU Scout's punches were faster and stronger; he punched him in the stomach as well.

Assassin aimed her Dual Pistols at one of the stalactites.

RED Scout gave BLU Scout a strong uppercut to the chin. BLU Scout walked backwards in a dizzying motion. Assassin fired the remaining rounds, and the stalactite detached itself from the ceiling. BLU Scout looked up and could only watch as the stalactite landed on his head. It punctured through his mouth, neck, and heart. Lifeless, he collapsed on the floor.

RED Scout muttered, "I could've done that."

Assassin reloaded her Pistols, while Scout picked up his shotgun that he left on the ground.

Assassin remarked, "Maybe it's time for us to leave."

"Forget it, Yvonne. We gotta know what's going on around here. There's gotta be a barracks or something."

Scout and Assassin left the computer room and made their way down another flight of stairs. The air started to grow a little colder. Assassin shivered as she said, "I should've brought a jacket."

They reached a long hallway with closed doors from both sides. One of the doors opened and Rocketeer unexpectedly revealed himself.

Surprised, Assassin asked, "How'd you get here?"

In a straightforward manner, Rocketeer replied, "There was a back door."

Rocketeer closed the door behind him and brandished his STEN. "You look like you've been hurt. What happened?"

Scout replied, "We just had a little battle with a speed freak, but we're all right now."

"So where are we going?"

"I don't know."

Scout, Assassin, and Rocketeer ventured forth to what lay ahead at the end of the hallway.

They reached a door at the other end. Scout opened it. They now found themselves at one end of a steel bridge the size of a race track. They looked up and saw that the ceiling towered at least hundreds of feet above them. They could only imagine what was below them. They stood at the edge of the bridge and could not believe what they were seeing. The chasm looked massive. There were monumental limestone columns all around, with more and more steel bridges connecting each other. The columns themselves featured open rooms filled with computers, pipes, and even reactors. The entire view was incredible, almost as if it came straight out of Isaac Asimov's imagination.

Scout stopped breathing for a moment. Assassin nearly gasped. Rocketeer put on his shades and said, "The BLU Team must have a lot of time in their hands."

Assassin murmured, "It's so beautiful."

Scout remarked, "Now I have no idea where to go."

Rocketeer replied, "It's simple. We just go straight ahead."

They continued on, strolling towards the other side of the bridge. But something hovering above them made them stop walking. A gigantic flying robot standing 25 feet tall landed right in front of them. It didn't look like anyone from the BLU team, so it must have been an original design.

Rocketeer shouted, "Who is _this_?!"

The giant robot smacked him away. Rocketeer fell off the bridge, but luckily, he turned on his jetpack before he could reach the bottom of the ravine.

The giant robot smashed its fists to the ground. The violent vibrations caused Scout and Assassin to fly and land on the floor, dropping their weapons. The giant robot reached out with both of its arms and closed its fingers around Scout and Assassin's waists. They tried to break free from its grasps by pushing its fingers away or pounding its metallic skin with their fists, but their struggles proved to be meaningless. The giant robot lifted them up high into the air. It carried them in its hands while lifting itself up from the ground and flying across the chasm.

Rocketeer turned off his jetpack as soon as he landed on the same bridge. He took off his sunglasses and watched as the giant robot took Scout and Assassin further away into the chasm.

"Just my luck. Now I gotta save my sister _and_ the Bostonian."

Rocketeer turned on his jetpack again and followed the giant robot. He kept a far distance so as not to give the robot any hints of pursuit.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	14. Meet the BODYGUARD, Part Six

Meet the BODYGUARD (continued)

* * *

"Hey, put us down!"

"Don't say that! We'll fall to our deaths!"

Scout and Assassin had no other option but to see where the robot would take them. They flew over the giant chasm, constantly passing columns and bridges. It took at least a few more seconds until the giant robot reached a gigantic flat stalagmite the size of a baseball field. It landed on a helipad and took a stroll towards the center of the vicinity.

Still in the grasp of the mechanical beast, Scout turned around and spotted, from a distance, the BLU Soldier and BLU Demoman and BLU Outlaw watching and waiting for their arrival. Their mutated appearances stayed the same.

The robot drew closer towards the BLU trio. Scout waved and yelled, "Hey, guys! Remember us?"

His sarcasm didn't seem to have an effect on them. They just stood still and watched as the giant robot carried him and Assassin to their master.

In the middle of the enormous stalagmite stood a knee-high platform with a giant computer screen. The giant robot opened its wrists. Scout and Assassin dropped down to the floor, almost landing on their feet.

Assassin yelled, "You could've done it a little more easily!"

Scout and Assassin looked up to see someone standing in front of the computer screen. It was a slim man wearing a black-colored lab coat. He appeared to be in his early to mid 40's.

Scout didn't know what to say to him. "Uh…hello."

The man spoke with a French accent. "Welcome to the Cave of Wonders."

Assassin stood up and asked, "Isn't that from an Arabian myth?"

The man laughed. "There is no need to worry about copyright infringement, my lady."

Scout blurted, "Who the hell are you?"

The Frenchman took a few steps forward. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ethan Fortier. I am a biochemist."

"Does that mean _you're_ the one who's making all these BLU guys go cuckoo?"

"Yes…in a way."

"How'd ya do it, man?"

"It's a rather long story."

The BLU trio drew closer towards the RED duo. Assassin asked, "Are you sure we even have time for a bedtime story?"

Ethan nodded. "Yes, I am certain of it. But don't worry. My companions will not harm you. That is, if you don't do anything stupid."

Scout replied, "Oh, believe me. We won't."

"You see, my BLU friends have undergone an incredible mutation."

"Yeah, we can see that."

"It's unbelievable, my friends. Their DNA had been altered. They have become much more powerful than what an ordinary human being should be."

Assassin asked, "How did this happen?"

"I've come up with a powerful elixir."

Scout asked, "And what'd ya put in it?"

"The usual formula to bolster health and stamina. But the main ingredient was an amazing discovery. And it would explain why the BLU Team created this underground lair in the first place. A new substance had been found at the bottom of the earth's crust."

Assassin appeared fascinated already. "What is it?"

I don't know, but it is something that I have never seen before. I myself decided to call it 'Tara-lorium'. Catchy, isn't it?"

Scout wasn't amused. "Yeah, sure."

"This liquid substance has been resting under the earth for generations. At first, I thought it was oil, because of its black color. But then, when exposed to light, it gave off a bright blue glow. It lit up the entire cave when I pointed my flashlight to the surface. I began to examine it even further. It became clear to me that it was a special form of liquid. When injected into the bloodstream, the entire human body begins to change. Can you imagine the military obtaining it and perfecting the formula?"

Assassin asked, "Can we see this liquid substance?"

Ethan just happened to have a glass jar of Tara-lorium on a computer desk. He showed it to Scout and Assassin. The black liquid looked normal inside the jar.

Scout commented, "It's not even glowing."

Ethan replied, "I shall demonstrate."

He turned on a flashlight and pointed the beam of light to the jar. Suddenly, the liquid began to glow a bright blue. Assassin was amazed.

And so was the Scout. "Can I have some of that?"

Ethan took the jar away. "It's still being tested."

Assassin asked, "Then why did the BLU Team take it?"

Ethan chuckled. "They were willing to become my subjects for large sums of money. Now, it's obvious that Tara-lorium hasn't been perfected."

"No kidding."

Assassin looked at the BLU trio behind her. Their white eyes and drenched uniforms had become such a common sight.

"But why are their clothes wet?"

"It's still a mystery to me."

Scout cleared his throat. "So…uh…can we get out of here?"

Ethan gave a smile. "I've run out of test subjects."

Assassin already figured it out. "You got to be kidding me."

"I still need to perfect this formula of mine."

Scout asked, "Why don't you use rats or somethin'?"

"It's much easier to use humans of below-average intelligence."

"Hey!"

Assassin took a few steps back. "I don't think you should mess with our DNA. We've got friends on the other side, you know."

"I know."

The giant robot picked Scout and Assassin up again. This time, they didn't try to escape its grasp.

Ethan asked, "Would you like to see the lake?"

Scout grew nervous. "Uh…sure."

Ethan took a stroll on a bridge connected to the stalagmite. The giant robot followed him from behind, its RED captives held firmly in its hands.

All of this happened while the Rocketeer hid behind one of the computer desks. He had heard everything that came out of Ethan's mouth. He felt astonished when he heard about Tara-lorium. But then, he realized that he had to rescue Scout and Assassin as soon as possible. He took a peek and watched as BLU Soldier, BLU Demoman, and BLU Outlaw waited for their master to return from the "lake." Rocketeer tried to figure out how he should do this.

* * *

The rest of the RED Team had reached the BLU Base. They looked everywhere for their enemies and for their youngest allies. Weatherman and Engineer checked the barracks. Soldier and Pyro checked the kitchen and bedrooms. Femme Fatale and Spy checked the storage rooms.

Heavy, Medic, Sniper, and Bodyguard teamed together and checked the outside corridors. They searched for every door that would lead to a possible laboratory. One door behind a warehouse looked pretty peculiar.

Heavy asked, "Shall we open it?"

Sniper replied, "It's just a door, mate."

Bodyguard raised his eyebrows. "Or is it?"

Medic slowly turned the knob. The door opened. They found a long flight of stairs that led to an underground chamber.

Bodyguard smiled. "It is time for another adventure."

Heavy, Medic, Sniper, and Bodyguard walked down the stairs and closed the door behind them.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	15. Note from the Author

It's been at least two months since I've been working on this fanfic. I was hoping that it might become successful. But recently, I've found out that my own work has been posted on Tumblr, and it's been nothing but bad news. This fanfic has been destroyed by constructive criticism.

I have to admit that I _have_ made lots of mistakes when creating Meet the Reinforcements. For one thing, I should have stuck with the original back-stories for the nine original classes. I should have stuck with Saxton Hale instead of Mr. Ingram. I should have made some improvements on interactions between the nine original classes and the six OC's. And to tell you the truth, I don't even know the real names of the nine mercenaries (except Engineer, who is named Mr. Conagher).

I admit that my work is not perfect. I should have put more effort into it. But I will say that I'm not going to stop writing this fanfic. I will make sure that I will mention Saxton Hale, and I'll try to find the real names for the nine original mercenaries. Mr. Ingram will still be an OC, but he won't replace Saxton Hale. I will try to read about the back-story of both Mann Company and others. I _will_ be making improvements as the stories continue.

I apologize to those who were unsatisfied by this fanfic. But I will try to make it better. I will try to keep it in touch with canon material.

Thank you, and I'm sorry.


	16. Meet the BODYGUARD, Part Seven

Meet the BODYGUARD (continued)

* * *

Rocketeer scratched his head as he tried to find a way to distract the BLU trio. He could use one of his Hand Grenades and cause an explosion somewhere down the ravine, prompting them to investigate. He took a peek from behind the desk. The BLU Soldier, BLU Demoman, and BLU Outlaw still didn't move a muscle. But then, BLU Soldier quickly turned his head and whispered, "We've got company."

Rocketeer prepared himself to face off against the BLU trio. He felt surprised, however, that they ran _away_ from him. They ran across a different bridge and disappeared into an opening in a column. Rocketeer was convinced that something tipped them off. That's when he realized that the rest of his teammates must've arrived. He hoped they would remain unscathed if they ever had the misfortune of confronting their adversaries. In the meantime, Rocketeer ran across the bridge that Ethan Fortier had taken.

* * *

By the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, Heavy, Medic, Sniper, and Bodyguard found themselves in one of the underground chambers. The room was filled with pipes.

Bodyguard remarked, "Maybe it's just for plumbing."

The RED quartet moved on to a different room. This time, it featured the usual cave characteristics: stalactites, stalagmites, and columns. It also included computer equipment and a water mattress.

Sniper scratched his head. "What's the mattress for?"

A crescendo wail led to Soldier and Pyro falling down from two circular pipers on the ceiling and landing on the water mattress.

Soldier sounded annoyed. "I _hate_ slides!"

Heavy helped the two get off the mattress and asked, "Where did you come from?"

Soldier replied, "The Control Room."

Pyro asked, "Mmmhmmm-mmhmmmhmm?"

Bodyguard took a peek at the next room. "This place must be where our young companions have been visiting."

Soldier brandished his Black Box. "Let's hope they don't do anything stupid."

Soldier, Pyro, Heavy, Medic, Sniper, and Bodyguard ventured through the same chambers that Scout and Assassin had once entered: from the Computer Room to the file cabinets. They even managed to reach the same bridge. They found themselves looking at the same chasm. They were stunned to see such a mesmerizing sight. But something else caught Sniper's eye.

"Look at that, men!" He pointed at the Force-A-Nature and Dual Pistols on the floor several yards away. They ran up to it.

Soldier picked up the Dual Pistols and said, "They're in trouble, men. We've got to save them."

Sniper remarked, "But we don't even know where they are. Look at this place. It's humongous! They could be anywhere."

Medic asked, "So vat do we do?"

Bodyguard chuckled. "We do what we have to do. We push on straight ahead. We will find them, eventually."

* * *

Ethan Fortier and the giant robot descended down a long flight of stairs, which was situated in the middle of a dark chamber filled with stalagmites and stalactites. Scout and Assassin waited nervously as the robot held them in its hands. Ethan pointed his flashlight at the bottom of the stairs and didn't say a word.

When they reached the bottom, Ethan told the robot to put them down. The robot did what he was told. When Scout and Assassin had been let go or its grasp, Ethan asked them if they could clearly see what was in front of them.

Scout had to narrow his eyes. He could see a black pool the size of a pond sitting just several feet in front of them.

"Is that the stuff you're talkin' about?"

Ethan replied, "Yes, it is. Watch."

He pointed his flashlight directly at the surface. The Tara-lorium Pool immediately gave off a bright whitish blue glow. The pool lit up the entire chamber. Scout, Assassin, and Ethan had to shield off the brightness with their hands before they could adjust to it. Ethan pointed his flashlight away from it, and the vicinity went dark again.

Ethan smiled at his two captives. "Do you see how amazing this is?"

Assassin remarked, "I think we already saw how amazing it was a few minutes ago."

"Can you imagine the possibilities when Tara-lorium is perfected?"

"No, I can't."

"This could be a scientific breakthrough. This sort of substance has never been discovered, and now we have a chance to become famous."

"I don't think I want to be known for a liquid that turns people into hyperactive maniacs."

"Don't think of it that way. Think of it as an elixir for the military. Remember, the Americans and the French are allies. We could use this to our advantage."

Scout shrugged his shoulders. "I guess it _does_ sound nice."

"Then does that mean you don't mind being my test subjects for tonight?"

Scout immediately grew irate. "Hell, no! Are you crazy?!"

Ethan replied, "Be careful what you say, because my metal companion behind you may not like your choice of words."

Assassin grew nervous. "But what if something goes wrong again? What if this Tara-lorium stuff is impossible to perfect?"

"That is where your disbelief can be proven ineffective. I am very close to achieving the proper formula. All I need now is you two."

Scout tightened his fists. "You're out of your mind, man!"

Ethan pulled out a handgun from his lab coat. "I'm just striving for ideals."

Distant noises caused the three of them to turn their attention to the top of the stairs. Rocketeer had arrived. He soared up in the air and fired his STEN at something hidden in the darkness. When he stopped firing, he flew above the Tara-lorium Pool.

He yelled, "Hello, Mr. Fortier! How are you today?!"

The giant robot lifted itself in the air and charged at Rocketeer who flew away. The robot would not longer be a threat to Scout and Assassin. But they hadn't left out the biochemist with the gun.

Scout smiled. "Well, it's now just you and us, pal."

Ethan appeared unmoved by the turn of events. "It's going to be boring this way."

* * *

Meanwhile, Rocketeer left the chamber and returned to the chasm. He didn't want to look back, because he knew that the giant robot would eventually catch up to him.

"Whoa!"

He saw rockets coming his way. He dodged them by strafing in the air. The rockets flew right past him. He looked behind him and saw the giant robot taking a hit with one of the projectiles. It slowed his speed down. Rocketeer looked to see where the rockets had come from. He spotted Soldier standing on a far-away bridge, reloading his Black Box. Pyro, Heavy, Medic, Sniper, and Bodyguard stood next to him.

Rocketeer yelled, "Where the hell have you been?!"

At that moment, Heavy fired rounds with his Minigun. The giant robot had been hit by the bullets, but it seemed to be unaffected by them. Rocketeer flew up and around the bridge. He needed to give Soldier a good shot at the robot. Soldier fired three more rockets at it. Luckily, two of them had become direct hits. The giant robot exploded and dropped down to the bottom of the gigantic chasm in fiery chunks.

Rocketeer landed on the bridge alongside to his teammates and turned off his jetpack. "You deserve a medal, Soldier."

Soldier gave a thumbs-up. Sniper asked Rocketeer, "Where are Simon and Yvonne?"

"They're with this scientist dude named Ethan Fortier."

Bodyguard's eyes widened. "Ethan Fortier?! I know the man."

Heavy asked, "Is he biochemist friend?"

"Yes, he is. Jason, where is he?"

* * *

By the time Bodyguard asked that question, Scout and Assassin were too busy participating in a fistfight. They had already taken Ethan's gun away from him by kicking it out of his grasp and throwing it into the Tara-lorium Pool. It took a few more seconds until Ethan collapsed to the floor with bruises.

Scout felt energetic yet again. "How do ya like us now?"

Ethan murmured, "This is not over yet."

"Yeah, yeah, tell that to the judge."

Scout and Assassin ran up the stairs together, leaving Ethan Fortier behind to calm his nerves.

Ethan picked up his flashlight and pulled out a walkie-talkie from his belt. He silently whispered, "This shall be fun."

He turned on the walkie-talkie and gave direct orders to one of his latest creations.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	17. Meet the BODYGUARD, Part Eight

Meet the BODYGUARD (continued)

* * *

"Mmhmmrhmm!"

Pyro pointed downwards. Everyone else looked down the bridge and saw Scout and Assassin running across another bridge that was almost directly below them.

Sniper called out, "Hey you down there!"

Scout and Assassin stopped sprinting and looked up to see their comrades alive and well.

Assassin called out, "Do you guys know where we should go?"

Sniper replied, "I have no idea! This place is bloody massive."

Scout had an idea. "Why doesn't Jason carry us up to where you guys are?"

Rocketeer shook his head. "I'd love to, but my jetpack's overheating at the moment."

Sniper added, "We don't have much time! Try to find an exit somewhere."

"And here! You may need these again!" Soldier threw the Dual Pistols and Force-A-Nature down. Scout and Assassin caught their weapons before they could land on the pavement.

Soldier gave a thumbs-up. "Good luck."

Scout and Assassin nodded before they ran off.

Heavy asked, "What do we do now?"

Bodyguard replied, "I know what _I_ must do. I'm going to find Ethan Fortier."

Sniper sighed. "I know he's your friend, mate. But we've got other things to do."

"Such as trying hard not to get your asses kicked?"

The unfamiliar voice made the RED team turn around. A lone man in a black-colored lab coat stood nonchalantly several feet in front of them. They were about to pull the trigger, but Ethan Fortier raised his hands and proclaimed, "I don't think it's a good idea for you to end my life. It could be the most fatal mistake of your life."

Soldier didn't appear amused. "All right, buddy. Tell us your name."

Ethan smiled. "I think you already know my name."

Bodyguard took a few steps forward with a solemn look on his face. "…Ethan."

"…Nazir."

They stood facing each other. Everyone else lowered their weapons as they expected a standoff between the French biochemist and the Saudi Arabian sentinel. The two kept facing each other, until suddenly they laughed and hugged each other. This caught the RED teammates by surprise.

Ethan and Nazir separated. In an enthusiastic tone, Ethan asked, "How have you been, my friend?"

Bodyguard pleasantly responded, "I am doing fine. How are you?"

"I'm doing well. How's the emperor of Saudi Arabia?"

"The last time I saw him, he didn't look too good."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been banished from my home country."

Ethan laughed. "What did you do this time?"

Their friendly conversation was so unexpected that Bodyguard's RED teammates gave each other confused looks.

The discussion continued.

"So what are you doing _here_, Nazir?"

"I've been hired to protect my teammates."

"You must be doing a very good job."

"Actually, this is my first time on the battlefield."

"It looks like you're doing a fine job."

"Why, thank you! And what are you doing here, my good friend?"

"I'm excelling in chemistry."

"How so?"

"I've discovered a liquid substance that could be of good use to the military."

"And did any of the BLU Team take it?"

"Yes, they have. That's when I realized that I hadn't really improved on the formula just yet."

Bodyguard laughed. "So _you're_ the one who's making them dangerously perpetual?"

"Yes, it is silly of me, but at least they're having fun."

Bodyguard shook his head. "Well, I'm sorry my friend. We shall have to spoil their fun. It's time for us to take you down."

Ethan faked a shocked expression. "Now why would you do such a thing?"

"It's part of an oath for the Reliable Excavation Demolition. We can't break any promises, you know."

Ethan narrowed his eyes but kept on smiling. "And neither can BLU. May the best man win."

"…Or woman."

"…Yes…or _woman_."

Ethan took a few steps back. Bodyguard and his RED Teammates prepared themselves for more action.

Rocketeer asked, "Don't you have any weapons of your own, Mr. Fortier?"

Ethan replied, "As a matter of fact, I do."

He wielded his walkie-talkie and raised it up to his mouth. "You can come out now."

Suddenly, the gate at the other end of the bridge opened to reveal a lone BLU Engineer standing still. The RED members noticed that he still wore his goggles, and he wasn't drenched in black liquid. He drew closer towards his opponents.

Heavy didn't seem impressed. "It is just one _baby man_."

Ethan replied, "Looks can be deceiving."

BLU Engineer stood beside Ethan and stayed silent. Ethan explained, "You see, he had the flu two weeks ago…so I donated his body to science."

Medic's eyes widened. "You did vat?"

"I switched his internal organs with metallic objects."

Sniper grunted. "You're disgusting."

"At least this Engineer now has a better purpose."

BLU Engineer smiled and opened a square-shaped gap at the center of his overalls. A sentry gun revealed itself from outside of his stomach.

Ethan asked, "What do you think?"

Bodyguard raised a finger. "Can I speak to you in private, please?"

Ethan answered in a straightforward manner. "Why, of course. Excuse us, gentlemen."

The two of them walked away, leaving the BLU Engineer and the RED teammates alone. It felt very awkward standing in front of a smiling BLU mercenary with a sentry gun in its stomach pointed at them.

Rocketeer scratched his neck. "So, um…are you excited about the Stanley Cup?"

BLU Engineer didn't say a word. He just kept on smiling. Meanwhile, Ethan and Bodyguard discussed a more important matter. They didn't even flinch when BLU Outlaw and BLU Soldier suddenly attacked the RED members from behind. Everyone separated. Rocketeer, Pyro, Heavy, Medic, and Sniper left the bridge with the BLU Outlaw and BLU Engineer chasing them from behind. BLU Soldier went on to fight RED Soldier on the bridge. Equalizer clashed with Equalizer. As this happened, Ethan and Bodyguard didn't move as they continued to converse.

"So Ethan, do you still believe that this so-called 'Tara-lorium' will work?"

"I can guarantee you that this will be our greatest weapon."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that we must crush your dreams."

"Nazir, you disappoint me so much. How can you betray an old friend just like that?"

"Rules are rules."

"I guess you are correct. Before you do your duty, let me remind you that this isn't the only place where Tara-lorium can be found. I can still find it in another country, maybe India or Japan."

"That's just you, Ethan. You always want to follow your dreams."

"I'm such a gentleman, aren't I?"

Bodyguard brandished his Automatic Shotgun. "Tell me, Ethan. Will we ever see each other again?"

"Only the writer knows."

"What writer?"

"Never mind."

As they continued with their conversation, RED Soldier and BLU Soldier kept on fighting on the bridge. RED Soldier almost slashed through BLU Soldier's uniform and kicked him right in the stomach. BLU Soldier flew backwards and landed on the pavement. He quickly stood up straight with a crazed demeanor. He struck the floor with his Equalizer, and amazingly, the pavement shook and cracked. RED Soldier moved out of the way as the ground below him began to fracture. BLU Soldier's brute strength while using his pickaxe almost tore the entire bridge to pieces. However, it didn't seem to have an effect on Ethan and Bodyguard, who didn't even move out of the way when a crack formed below them.

BLU Soldier lunged for RED Soldier, who found himself slightly injured when his opponent hit him on the shoulder with the butte of his pickaxe. RED Soldier fell to the ground. Then, he remembered the Bottle of Steroids that Bodyguard had given him. He didn't hesitate as he stood up and took the cap off the bottle.

"Here goes nothing."

RED Soldier laid two pills on the palm of his hand and swallowed them whole. He put the Bottle of Steroids back in his pocket. He started to feel an eerie sensation in his muscles and organs. A tingling feeling led to a more intense feeling in his entire body. BLU Soldier could only watch as began to glow red. RED Soldier could feel the power. He laughed and charged towards BLU Soldier at breakneck speed. RED Soldier swung his Equalizer at his opponent faster than usual. His unusual strength became too much for BLU Soldier, who tried hard to shield his opponent's attacks with his Equalizer. Finally, RED Soldier swung his own Equalizer through the BLU Soldier's head, killing him instantly. He collapsed onto the pavement. RED Soldier removed his weapon from his opponent's head. The exhilaration in his body soon waned.

"I've never felt so good about myself."

Suddenly, he saw something at the corner of his eye. He turned to see BLU Demoman standing there staring at him. Soldier stared back. He almost felt stunned at the Scotsman's devilish appearance. They considered themselves to be friends once, some time ago. But they soon turned into fierce rivals because of what the Administrator had proposed to them. The most logical thing for Soldier to do is to fight against BLU Demoman, but he couldn't. He saw a bit of misery in the BLU Demoman's eyes. It seemed like the Scotsman didn't like being an intimidating entity. Either that, or he just didn't want to be seen like he was now. BLU Demoman slowly brandished his broken bottle of liquor. He took a few steps forward, and then he charged towards his opponent. Soldier held his pickaxe tightly in his hands. But before BLU Demoman could reach him, the sounds of gunfire echoed all through the chasm. Bodyguard fired rounds from his Automatic Shotgun directly at BLU Demoman, who groaned in pain. As the pellets punctured through his clothes and skin, he slipped and fell off a bridge. BLU Demoman screamed as he fell to the bottom of the gorge.

Bodyguard reloaded his weapon. Soldier inhaled slowly and said, "You shouldn't have done that."

"What do you mean?"

Soldier shook his head. "…Never mind. Where the hell is Mr. Fortier?"

"He left. It was either him or you, and I _never _leave the premises when my friends are in trouble."

"…Yeah."

"Now, we must hurry. I hear that Engineers can be very lethal with a Sentry."

Soldier and Bodyguard departed from the damaged bridge and ran in the direction of rapid gunfire. They found the BLU Engineer in an enormous room filled with construction vehicles. He kept firing nonstop rounds from his Stomach Sentry while giving an electrifying robotic howl. Rocketeer, Pyro, and Sniper hid behind a bulldozer. Heavy and Medic were nowhere to be seen in the room. They must be fighting against the BLU Outlaw in another room. Rocketeer used his STEN submachine gun to attack the BLU Engineer, but the bullets proved ineffective. BLU Engineer opened his mouth and a small missile had been ejected from it. Rocketeer, Pyro, and Sniper ran away from the incoming projectile. The explosion of the bulldozer almost rattled the entire room. Soldier and Bodyguard caught up with their three teammates. They hid behind a cargo container as BLU Engineer kept firing.

Sniper blurted, "Bloody hell! This man is unstoppable!"

Bodyguard coughed because of the smoke. "Where are Boris and Ludwig?"

"They ran off somewhere."

Soldier cursed. "I've run out of rockets! Kyle, why don't you use your Flamethrower?"

Pyro replied, "Mmmhmmhmm!"

BLU Engineer kept firing rounds from his Sentry gun.

"Forget the Flamethrower. There's just one thing to do. If anyone knows how to use a crane, just do it." Sniper pulled out a Jarate from his coat pocket. When the shooting stopped, Sniper revealed himself and threw the jar of piss at BLU Engineer. The glass cracked, and urine spilled all over him. The yellow liquid didn't seem to have a detrimental effect on him, but Sniper didn't care for that.

"Over here, you bastard!"

Sniper waved his arms and ran away from the group. Soldier spotted a mobile crane that held another cargo container up high. Now he knew what Sniper wanted. As BLU Engineer focused on attacking Sniper, Soldier ran towards the crane. He took the driver's seat and turned on the ignition by pressing a button, but he immediately tried hard to see which lever he should pull.

Rocketeer, Pyro, and Bodyguard saw him working the controls, and then they saw BLU Engineer trying to annihilate the sprinting Australian.

"Let's do this!"

Rocketeer's command prompted the three of them to separate from each other and run in different directions. They all taunted BLU Engineer, calling him names and criticizing his occupation. Soldier pulled the correct levers. The crane that carried the cargo container moved to the left, towards BLU Engineer's direction. BLU Engineer's hands twirled a complete 360 degrees, and they kept on twirling. As a result, more bullets had been discharged from his fingers. He pointed his hands at Rocketeer and Pyro, and he tried to fire a missile to Bodyguard. Bullets flew at all directions, but the RED members still tried to distract him. Now, the cargo container was right on top of BLU Engineer.

"How do you like _this_, Toymaker?!"

Soldier pulled a lever which released the cargo container. BLU Engineer looked up and saw the container crash down on him, squishing him. The room went silent again.

* * *

Scout and Assassin still couldn't find their way out of this place. The underground lair must've been the size of the Grand Canyon, or larger. They did, however, stumble upon what looked to be the Command Center. They found various maps, documents, blueprints, and two open briefcases on a single table. One of the maps happened to be for the entire BLU terrain (base, forest, and all).

"Hey, Simon, look at this."

Assassin pointed at an article that described the discovery and service of Tara-lorium.

Scout gave a half-smile. "I don't think this Ethan guy will mind."

He picked it up and put it in one of the open briefcases. Assassin did the same by finding important documents about Ethan Fortier and Tara-lorium and putting them in the same briefcase.

"What do you think you're doing?"

They turned around and saw Ethan himself at the entrance. He didn't have a weapon, so Scout and Assassin continued finding the stuff they needed.

Scout remarked, "We're just taking your stuff. I hope you don't mind."

"And what would you need them for?"

"We just like to know who you are. That's all."

They stopped gathering maps and documents, closed the briefcase, and pointed their weapons at the Frenchman.

Ethan proclaimed, "I guess we weren't properly introduced from the start."

"Yeah, but that's okay. You're not that interesting, anyway."

Ethan chuckled. "So what are you going to do with what you've just stolen from me?"

"I don't know. Let the Administrator know that we've got a complete psycho in our hands?"

"I guess I can't do anything about it."

"Of course, not. You're done, man."

Ethan narrowed his eyes and smiled. "No, I'm not. I still have other tricks in my sleeves."

He pulled out a remote control from his lab coat pocket.

Assassin asked, "What's that for?"

Ethan didn't say a word as he pressed a button. Sirens began to howl. A computer voice from speakers announced, "Attention! Attention! The self-destruction sequence has been initiated. Please evacuate to the nearest exits."

Scout blurted, "How much time do we have?!"

Ethan shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe four minutes, or four hours. I'll let you decide."

"Why would you want to blow up your own property?"

"It's not mine. I'm just here to do some research."

"You're a real prick, you know that?"

"At least I _know_ I am."

Assassin asked, "What about your Tara-lorium?"

"You don't have to worry about that. Now, you better catch up with your friends."

"Where are _you_ gonna go?"

"I'll be around…eventually."

Ethan left the Command Center in a nonchalant fashion. Scout carried the suitcase while he and Assassin ran away, trying to reunite with their teammates.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	18. Meet the BODYGUARD, Part Nine (Final)

Meet the BODYGUARD (concluded)

* * *

"_Attention_! _Attention_! _The self-destruction sequence has been initiated. Please evacuate to the nearest exits_."

Bodyguard grunted. "He certainly hasn't changed a bit."

Sniper asked, "You mean Fortier's the one who's gonna blow everything up?"

Bodyguard laughed. "Outrageous, isn't it?"

The sirens echoed across the entire chasm. Soldier yelled, "We better get out of here!"

Rocketeer stopped him. "Wait a minute! What about Simon and Yvonne?"

Pyro replied, "Mmmhmmhmmhmm-mmhmmrmm!"

"We can't be too sure of that! They could be in serious trouble right now. I'm gonna go look for them."

Sniper blurted, "Are you out of your mind?!"

"I'm not gonna disappoint my parents by leaving my sister down here!"

Soldier replied, "Well, while you're at it, we'll just look for an exit like any other normal person would do."

Bodyguard made a quick decision. "I'll stay here with Jason."

That made Rocketeer a little more content. "Thanks, Nazir."

Sniper added, "Go, and hurry! This place could crumble down in less than fifteen minutes."

"Come on, let's go!"

Rocketeer and Bodyguard separated from the group as they left the cargo room. Soldier, Pyro, and Sniper went on to search for Heavy and Medic. Rocketeer and Bodyguard ran the other direction.

* * *

Meanwhile, Scout and Assassin still couldn't find an exit. They had already obtained Ethan Fortier's documents, but they grew desperate. If they couldn't get out of this lair in time, then they would be gone and soon forgotten. They ran across a long wide hallway.

"Oh, God! I really hope we make it out in time!"

* * *

"_Attention_! _Attention_! _You have six more minutes before complete self-destruction. Please proceed to the nearest exits immediately_."

Rocketeer and Bodyguard ran this way and that way, moving through rooms and corridors. They still couldn't find Scout and Assassin.

A distant female scream from the hallway caught Rocketeer and Bodyguard's attention.

"Yvonne?!"

Rocketeer and Bodyguard sprinted as fast as they could to see where the scream had come from. They reached a gymnasium the size of a lounge. There, the BLU Sniper had grabbed Scout by the neck and threw him down a pile of dumbbells. In the meantime, the BLU Heavy gave Assassin a huge bear hug, squeezing her so hard that she could barely breathe.

"Put her down!"

Rocketeer wielded his Tire Iron and struck BLU Heavy in the back. But the Russian kept squeezing her.

Bodyguard wielded his Scimitar and charged at BLU Sniper, who revealed his Machete just in time to dodge his attacks. Scimitar clashed with Machete.

Rocketeer hit BLU Heavy on the head seven times. BLU Heavy finally let go of Assassin and turned to confront her brother. The Russian punched him in the stomach and sent him flying backwards a few feet up in the air and landing on a bench.

Scout regained consciousness and threw one of the dumbbells at BLU Heavy, who didn't even flinch.

Assassin yelled, "This is what happens when you don't pick on somebody your own size!"

Both Scout and Assassin lunged at BLU Heavy. Scout climbed behind his back and pounded his head with his Bat. Assassin started to punch him in the testicles, which caused BLU Heavy to scream in pain. Rocketeer wielded one of his Hand Grenades and called out, "Simon, finish him off!"

Rocketeer threw the Hand Grenade at Scout, who caught it and pulled the pin. He lodged it in BLU Heavy's mouth, which muffled his scream. Scout and Assassin immediately ran away from him. The BLU Heavy's head burst aggressively, fragments of bone and brains scattered all over the floor. The headless BLU Heavy collapsed on the dumbbells.

Bodyguard couldn't finish his fight with the BLU Sniper, because the Australian retreated like a coward. He went on to check with his young teammates. "Are any of you hurt?"

Assassin took deep breaths. "All I gotta do is breathe, Nazir."

Scout picked up the briefcase from the corner. "Come on, guys! We gotta get out of here. We don't want to end up as minced meat in a mushroom cloud."

Rocketeer exclaimed, "Then we're just wasting time talking about it. Let's get the hell out of here."

Scout, Assassin, Rocketeer, and Bodyguard continued to search for an exit.

"_Attention_! _Attention_! _You have four more minutes before complete self-destruction. Please proceed to the nearest exits immediately_."

* * *

But new obstacles had arrived in the shape of the remaining members of Builders League United. In the same cargo room where the BLU Engineer had been defeated, the RED quartet found themselves standing in front of the BLU Assassin, BLU Rocketeer, BLU Outlaw, BLU Medic, BLU Sniper, and BLU Spy. All of them had the usual white eyes and drenched uniforms. All of them had their melee weapons in their hands. BLU Rocketeer conceived the most dissimilar appearance: instead of a jetpack, he had giant bat wings behind his back.

Assassin asked nervously, "So…how do we do this?"

"_Attention_! _Attention_! _You have two more minutes before complete self-destruction. Please proceed to the nearest exits immediately_."

Scout brandished his bat. "Why don't we just go out on a high note?"

The BLU members charged. RED collided with BLU. Scout, Assassin, Rocketeer, and Bodyguard fought their adversaries with their own melee weapons. Rocketeer turned on his jetpack and flew up in the air to fight BLU Rocketeer, who flapped his wings and chased after him. They both fought with their Tire Irons. Scout, Assassin, and Bodyguard tried hard to defend themselves. Scout swung his Bat at BLU Medic in the torso, but BLU Medic quickly fought back. He swung his axe at Scout, who quickly dodged it by ducking. The BLU opponents had pushed Scout, Assassin, and Bodyguard back towards the mobile crane that Soldier had once used.

The RED members almost had them cornered. Scout, Assassin, and Bodyguard began to climb the crane while protecting themselves against a Machete, a Spear, a Saw, a Butterfly Knife, and a Cattle Prod. Both Rocketeers still battled with each other up in the air.

"_Sixty more seconds before complete self-destruction_."

The remaining BLU Team climbed up the crane as well. With Scout, Assassin, and Bodyguard on top of the crane and with their BLU opponents right below them, it seemed to be a fitting climax. But Bodyguard didn't want it to end like this. If he let his comrades die, it would ruin his reputation. He held his Ruby Talisman in his left hand. This would be the most opportune time to use his greatest weapon. He lifted it up to his lips and whispered an Arabic chant.

"_Twenty more seconds_."

Assassin yelled, "Is this it?"

Bodyguard didn't think so. "Definitely not!"

Red rays of light exited from the ruby and traveled into his teammates' bodies. They appeared stunned when the rays of light seeped into their hearts. Their chests, including the Bodyguard's, began to glow red.

Bodyguard smiled. "I knew I wouldn't fail you now."

"_Five_…_four_…_three_…_two_…_one_..."

* * *

The other RED team members had already escaped the BLU terrain before the ground shook with aggressive force. All of the buildings crumbled. Smoke and dust were released into the air. The earthquake stopped, and everything fell silent again.

The RED team stayed in the forest. Heavy, Femme Fatale, and Spy observed the wreckage. The entire citadel had been obliterated by the self-destruction of the underground lair. They had already known that Scout, Assassin, Rocketeer, and Bodyguard still hadn't been found. If they were still inside the underground lair when the self-destruction sequence had been completed, then it would take months to search for their cadavers in the BLU ruins.

"Look!"

Femme Fatale pointed at a spot in the wreckage that began to move. A fraction of a concrete wall had been moved aside, and a glowing Bodyguard revealed himself. Scout, Assassin, and Rocketeer followed him from behind as they departed from the gap that had been produced in the wreckage. Their hearts gave off a red-colored luminous glow. They walked away from the remains of the citadel. When Bodyguard whispered something to his Ruby Talisman, every one of the survivors' chests stopped glowing.

Femme Fatale asked, "Are you all right?"

Bodyguard smiled. "I've done my job well."

Scout, Assassin, and Rocketeer took breathers.

Spy asked, "What about the rest of the BLU team?"

Scout took a deep breath. "Oh, you don't have to worry about them. They're ancient history."

Scout showed the briefcase to his teammates. "There's some stuff in here that might be useful."

Spy took the briefcase from him.

Heavy asked Bodyguard, "Did you use talisman?"

Bodyguard replied, "Yes, I did. I knew it would the most appropriate time to use my most precious possessions. You will understand its power when it's time for me to use it again."

Heavy laid a hand on Bodyguard's shoulder. "You did well, comrade."

"As did everyone else."

All seven of them joined the rest of the RED team and searched through the remains of what used to be BLU territory. They believed that there would some more important information about Builders League United scattered somewhere. In the meantime, Spy opened the briefcase and looked through documents concerning Ethan Fortier and Tara-lorium. Bodyguard stood beside him and watched him reading different pages of maps, blueprints, and articles.

Spy asked, "How long have you known Mr. Fortier?"

Bodyguard replied, "I've known the man for six years when I was protecting the emperor of Saudi Arabia."

"From the looks of these documents, your friend's devotion to the discovery of this so-called 'Tara-lorium' has become his newest primary obsession. He has been working on this formula for seven months."

"Is there any indication that he has almost reached the final phase?"

"With a little more meticulous calculations and chemical bonding, he might have perfected it. However, I have my doubts. I do believe that this Tara-lorium would still be ineffective. It says here that Fortier had injected it into the bloodstream. The entire BLU Team may have experienced their permanent metamorphosis, but it seems to me that it was quite hard for them to control their newfound power. Tara-lorium could be impossible to perfect. Perhaps it _was_ a good idea to destroy it during self-destruction."

Bodyguard shook his head. "Ethan is smart. He wouldn't leave it alone. He may have kept some for himself when he escaped."

"If that is true, then he is now the owner of a dangerous substance."

"He told me that there is more Tara-lorium in different parts of the world."

"But we are the only ones who know about it."

"Are you sure?"

They stared at each other. They couldn't handle the situation very easily. Spy kept on searching through various documents, while Bodyguard looked on as his RED teammates searched through debris for the remainder of the late night.

END of Meet the BODYGUARD

* * *

_**INFO**_

BODYGUARD

Real Name: Nazir

Age: 42

Race: Saudi Arabian

Hometown: Riyadh, Saudi Arabia

* * *

Health: 275

Job: Support

* * *

Appearance: Plump, dark skin, with a beard, a few inches shorter than Heavy, talisman hanging from his neck

* * *

Sprinting Speed: As slow as the Soldier

Weakness: Because of his usefulness, every online server can only allow a limited number of Bodyguards for both teams (RED and BLU). If a server has fourteen to sixteen players in each team, there can only be three Bodyguards. If a server has ten to thirteen players in each team, there can only be TWO Bodyguards. For seven to nine players in each team, there can only be ONE. If a server has less than seven players in each team, then he cannot be a playable class at all. Plus, he is not allowed in servers involving _Mann vs. Machine_.

* * *

Primary Weapon: Automatic Shotgun

Ammo: 25 out of 100 Shells

Damage: Up to 55 per shell

Crit Damage: Up to 165 per shell

Pros:

*Deals plenty of damage to enemies

*Fast rate of fire

*Does not slow the Bodyguard's sprinting speed down (like how the Minigun slows the Heavy down)

Con:

*Low accuracy at far range (due to scattered pellets)

*Slow reloading

Additional Information: This fully automatic shotgun would be based on the AA-12 Automatic Shotgun, which is a more modern automatic shotgun.

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Bottle of Steroids

Ammo: 3 in total

Info: The Bodyguard does not use this weapon for himself. He gives the Bottle of Steroids to three of his teammates. When he hands one to a teammate, the latter, at any time he wishes, will pop open the capsule and scarf down every pill from inside the bottle. The Steroids will give the teammate the ability to deal Mini-Crits to enemies. Although invulnerability is non-existent, 50% Resistance to Damage by enemy gunfire will be granted. Plus, not only will the teammate do more damage to enemies, he will also attain a quicker sprinting speed. All of this lasts for a total of 15 seconds. The Scout, however, will not gain a quicker sprinting speed, simply because he can already run very fast. On a side note, since she is unable to deal any Crits or Mini-Crits to enemies, the Femme Fatale cannot receive the Bottle from the Bodyguard.

Con: There is a catch: the Bodyguard can only give out 3 Bottles of Steroids every one life (ammo packs are ineffective). So if he runs out of Bottles, teammates will have to wait until he dies and re-spawns in order to consume more pills.

Additional Information: The Bottle of Steroids is in the form of a typical bottle of aspirin.

* * *

Tertiary Weapon: Ruby/Sapphire Talisman

Info: The Talisman gives the Bodyguard the ability to "protect" three of his teammates. He will select them by clicking the "Left Mouse" button: a ray of light will exit from the gemstone and travel through the teammates' bodies. When he is ready, the Bodyguard will shout an Arabic chant. A spherical force field (colored either red or blue) will surround each teammate. With the force field, those who are inside it are granted brief invulnerability. Not even a Spy's backstab will pierce through the circular shield. The invulnerability will last 12 seconds. Crits or Mini-Crits will not be granted.

Con: Here's another catch: the Bodyguard cannot grant himself invulnerability when the Talisman does its work. If he dies, then all three teammates will immediately lose their force fields. Plus, the Bodyguard has to wait for a total of 90 seconds before reusing the Talisman again. Finally, if a teammate dies before the Bodyguard uses the Talisman, then he will lose his chance at invulnerability when re-spawning.

Additional Information: It shouldn't be too hard to figure out. The RED Team has the Ruby because it's red, and the BLU Team has the Sapphire because it's blue.

* * *

Melee Weapon: Scimitar

Damage: Up to 55

Crit Damage: Up to 165

* * *

_**Unlock/Drop/Purchase/Craft **_Items

Primary Weapon: Wildcat (Automatic Shotgun)

Ammo: 20 out of 100 Shells

Damage: Up to 85 per shell

Crit Damage: Up to 255 per shell

Pros:

*Faster reloading

*Deals greater damage to enemies

*Increases maximum health at 300

Cons:

*Smaller clip size

*Slower rate of fire

* * *

Primary Weapon: Search and Destroy (Automatic Shotgun)

Ammo: 20 out of 100 Shells

Damage: Up to 70 per shell

Crit Damage: Up to 210 per shell

Pros:

*Faster reloading

*Gives the Bodyguard quicker sprinting speed

*Deals greater damage to enemies

Cons:

*Smaller clip size

*Lowers maximum health at 250

* * *

Primary Weapon: Pandemonium (Double-Barrel Shotgun)

Ammo: 2 out of 50 Shells

Damage: Up to 125 per two shells

Crit Damage: Up to 375 per two shells

Pros:

*Gives the Bodyguard quicker sprinting speed

*Does the most damage to enemies

*25 Health is regained after each kill

Cons:

*Slow manual reloading

*Less ammunition

*Smaller clip size

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Silver Bullet (Tin Box)

Ammo: 3 in Total

Info: When the Bodyguard hands three of his teammates the Silver Bullets, the teammates will be granted more ammunition for both Primary and Secondary weapons. For example, the original amount of ammo for the Pyro's Flamethrower and the Heavy's Minigun will be multiplied by 2, making it a total of 400 rounds. Another example would be the Sniper's Huntsman, in which his ammo will go up to a total of 24 arrows. Rechargeable weapons (such as Mad Milk and Jarate) will not be affected.

Con: The Silver Bullets will wear off when the teammates die and re-spawn.

Additional Information: The Silver Bullet appears as a typical square-shaped tin box.

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Oasis of Amity (Bottle of Mineral Water)

Ammo: 3 in Total

Info: When the Bodyguard hands three teammates the Oasis of Amity, their maximum health will be multiplied by 2. For example, the Demoman's health will increase from 150 to 300, and the Soldier's health will increase from 200 to 400.

Con: When health has been boosted by the Oasis, teammates are unable to receive health restoration from the Medic, and are unable to use a dispenser to regain health. However, they can still pick up health packs and revisit a resupply locker. Plus, the Oasis will wear off when the teammates die and re-spawn.

Additional Information: The Oasis of Amity appears as a green-colored glass bottle of water.

* * *

Tertiary Weapon: Arabian Knight (Turquoise Talisman)

Info: Just like the original Ruby/Sapphire Talisman, the Bodyguard will select three teammates by clicking the "Left Mouse" button: a ray of light will exit from the gemstone and travel through the teammates' bodies. But instead of invulnerability, the teammates will be able to deal Crit damage to enemies when the Bodyguard yells his Arabic chant. Crit damage will last for a total of 10 seconds. Even if there is no invulnerability, 25% Resistance to Damage will be granted. On a side note, the Femme Fatale cannot be selected.

Con: And just like the original Ruby/Sapphire Talisman, the Bodyguard cannot grant himself the ability to deal any Crit damage when the Necklace does its work. If he dies, then all three teammates will immediately lose their Crit force. And if a teammate dies before the Bodyguard uses the Talisman, then he will lose his chance to deal Crit damage to enemies when re-spawning. But there is an upside: the Bodyguard is given a shorter waiting time before he is able to use his Talisman again (this time, it's a total of 45 seconds).

* * *

Tertiary Weapon: Ottoman's Regiment (Diamond Talisman)

Info: This one is real special. Instead of three teammates, _everyone_ in the team is selected (but excluding the Bodyguard himself). With the Ottoman's Regiment, everyone is given invulnerability (force field from original Talisman) for a total of 10 seconds. Crits or Mini-Crits will not be granted. Plus, enemy spies in disguise can't receive invulnerability, so it'll be easy to pick out who's the traitor.

Con: The Ottoman's Regiment must be recharged after use (a total of 60 seconds). Also, since the Bodyguard can't receive invulnerability, the power of the Talisman will wear off immediately if he dies. Furthermore, on a Payload map, teammates cannot push the cart once the Ottoman's Regiment is being used (so players will have to wait until the invulnerability wears off before pushing it further towards its destination). On a Control Point map, teammates cannot capture points once the Ottoman's Regiment is being used. On a Capture the Flag map, teammates cannot capture the Intel.

* * *

Coming up next:

-Solo Stories

-Updated info on New Classes

-New Missions, New Maps

-GUARDIANS OF TARA-LORIUM (the direct sequel to "Meet the Bodyguard")


	19. Updated Info on Rocketeer & Assassin

Updated Info on Rocketeer/Assassin

ROCKETEER

Real Name: Jason

Age: 24

Race: Mongolian

Place of Origin: Hollywood, Los Angeles, California

* * *

Health: 125

Job: Offense

* * *

Appearance: Clean shaven, short hair, sunglasses (on and off)

Clothes: Red/Blue-colored Jumpsuit, black gloves, jetpack strapped behind back

* * *

Sprinting Speed: As fast as Medic

Weakness: Like the Scout and Spy, the Rocketeer as low health.

* * *

Primary Weapon: STEN (submachine gun)

Ammo: 40 out of 160 Rounds

Damage: 13 to 20 per round

Crit Damage: 53 to 60 per round

Pro: Very high accuracy

Con: Slow reloading; lower accuracy when flying in the air

* * *

Secondary Weapon: 12-Gauge Shotgun

Ammo: 6 out of 32

Damage: Up to 40

Crit Damage: Up to 125

Pro: Very effective at close range

Con: Not very effective at long range

Additional Information: This shotgun is standard. It's the same one that Pyro, Heavy, and Soldier possess.

* * *

Melee Weapon: Lug Wrench

Damage: Up to 50

Crit Damage: Up to 150

* * *

Specialty: Jetpack

Info: When using the jetpack, the Rocketeer will fly high up into the air, so much so that he'll be able to fly over rooftops. He can even land and walk on rooftops. Also, when the jetpack overheats, the Rocketeer will drop down on the floor. He will lose up to 50 Health when landing on his feet at a high distance. Finally, the jetpack will turn on and off when using the "Jump" button. This means that the Rocketeer cannot jump in a normal matter, as the "Jump" button will automatically activate the jetpack.

Lifespan: Forty seconds before overheating

* * *

_**Unlock/Drop/Purchase/Craft**_ Items

Primary Weapon: 20th Century Striker (Uzi submachine gun)

Ammo: 30 out of 150 Rounds

Damage: 19 to 29 per round

Crit Damage: 77 to 87 per round

Pro: Deals greater damage to enemies than STEN; Increases maximum health at 150

Con: Lower accuracy; smaller clip size

Additional Information: The name of the weapon is a play on "20th Century Fox."

* * *

Primary Weapon: L.A. Undertaker (MP5 submachine gun)

Ammo: 30 out of 150 Rounds

Damage: 19 to 29 per round

Crit Damage: 77 to 87 per round

Pro: Accuracy stays the same even when flying in the air; faster reloading

Con: Smaller clip size

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Stop the Motion (Hand Grenade)

Ammo: 3 in Total

Damage: Up to 80

Crit Damage: Up to 245

Pro: Deals high damage to enemies

Con: Low ammunition

Additional Information: Stop the Motion grenades can only be thrown at a far distance. They can't be thrown a few feet in front of you. Plus, they have a 1 1/2-second delay before they explode on impact.

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Spy-O-Vision (Sunglasses)

Ammo: None

Damage: None

Crit Damage: None

Pro: These sunglasses allow you to see through the disguise of an enemy spy.

Con: Since this is very useful against enemy spies, it will be very hard to unlock: a total of 40 Rocketeer achievements. It cannot be purchased or dropped. It can be crafted, though items will be rare and hard to find.

* * *

Melee Weapon: Hollywood Harvester (Scythe)

Damage: Up to 60

Crit Damage: Up to 180

Additional Information: Each kill refreshes health by 20

* * *

Specialty: Low-Rider (Jetpack)

Info: While it is not intended for flying, this jetpack allows you to sprint much faster than usual (slightly faster than Scout). It helps whenever you're cornered by enemies, or rushing towards a control point. This item can be either unlocked or dropped.

Lifespan: Six seconds

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

ASSASSIN

Real Name: Yvonne

Age: 20

Race: Mongolian

Place of Origin: Hollywood, Los Angeles, California

Family Relation: Younger sister of Jason (Rocketeer)

* * *

Health: 125

Job: Offense

* * *

Appearance: Long black hair, slim body

Clothes: Black pants, white undershirt, Red/Blue-colored vest

* * *

Sprinting Speed: Moves slower than Scout, and about as fast as Spy

Weakness: Just like the Scout, the Assassin has low health. Plus, her arsenal is rather lightweight than what the rest of the classes possess (with the exception of Scout). She has no explosive weapons and no heavy artillery.

* * *

Primary Weapon: Dual Pistols

Ammo: 12/12 out of 96 Rounds

Damage: 17 to 25 per round

Crit Damage: 67 to 75 per round

Pro: Very high accuracy

Con: Slow reloading

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Poisoned Arrows

Info: Poisoned Arrows are discharged from a small crossbow attached to her arm. Plus, if an enemy is hit, damage can be prevented by picking up health packs and such, but blurred vision/wobbly movement will remain.

Ammo: 8 in total

Damage: 8 to 14 every one second (total of 11 seconds)

Crit Damage: 36 to 42 every one second

Pro: Gives enemy blurred vision and wobbly movement for 11 seconds

Con: Mildly slow reloading/low ammunition

* * *

Melee Weapon: Medieval Mongolian Spear

Damage: Up to 45

Crit Damage: Up to 140

* * *

_**Unlock/Drop/Purchase/Craft**_ Items

Primary Weapon: Twin Sisters (Dual Revolvers)

Ammo: 6/6 out of 48 Rounds

Damage: 19 to 27 per round

Crit Damage: 73 to 81 per round

Pro: Deals greater damage to enemies; fast reloading; _headshots_ are automatic Mini-Crits

Con: Less ammunition than Dual Pistols

* * *

Primary Weapon: Girly Garand (M1 Garand Rifle)

Ammo: 8 out of 40 Rounds

Damage: 21 to 30 per round

Crit Damage: 81 to 90 per round

Pro: Deals greater damage to enemies

Con: The rifle has lower accuracy than the Pistols, and the player cannot manually reload

Additional Information: This American weapon is straight from World War II and the Korean War

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Poisoned Darts

Info: Poisoned Darts are discharged from a bamboo stick. Like the Poisoned Arrows, if an enemy is hit, damage can be prevented by picking up health packs and such, but blurred vision/wobbly movement will still linger.

Ammo: 10 in total

Damage: 6 to 11 every one second (total of 15 seconds)

Crit Damage: 28 to 33 every one second

Pro: Gives enemy blurred vision/wobbly movement for 15 seconds

Con: Mildly slow reloading/low ammunition

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Pistol & Medieval Mongolian Shield

Ammo: 12 out of 72 Rounds (Pistol)

Damage: 17 to 25 per round

Crit Damage: 28 to 36 per round

Pro: Shield protects Assassin from hit-scan weapons

Con: Shield does not protect from direct hits of explosive weapons, though damage will be moderate. Also, the weight of the shield makes Assassin sprint a little slower.

Additional Information: Pistol ammunition is from the original Dual Pistol ammunition


	20. Updated Info on Outlaw & Weatherman

OUTLAW

Real Name: Miguel

Age: 44

Race: Argentinian

Place of Origin: Mendoza, Argentina

* * *

Health: 175

Job: Defense

* * *

Appearance: Clean shaven, short hair, weapon in one hand and his lighter in the other

Clothes: Black pants, boots, Red/Blue bandana around his forehead

* * *

Sprinting Speed: Slower than Pyro, but faster than Demoman

Weakness: It takes time for Outlaw to spend his ammunition (lighting the fuse and throwing it in the air), which means that the slow _Rate of Fire_ for both Primary and Secondary weapons is his main weakness

* * *

Description of Arsenal: Instead of shotguns or miniguns or flamethrowers, the Outlaw throws certain hazardous items at enemies with his strong throwing arm. Much of his arsenal requires his special lighter.

* * *

Primary Weapon: Stick of Dynamite

Ammo: 15 in total

Damage: Up to 65

Crit Damage: Up to 195

Pro: Enormous _Explosion Radius_

Con: When it lands on the floor, the dynamite has a 1-second delay before explosion

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Molotov Cocktail

Ammo: 20 in total

Damage: 7 to 12 every one second (Up to 30 on impact)

Crit Damage: 31 to 36 every one second (Up to 90 on impact)

Pro: Damage from Cocktails lasts about 8 seconds

Con: Smaller _Explosion Radius _than Stick of Dynamite; flames can be exterminated with enemy Pyro's air blast

Additional Information: When pressing "Right Mouse", Outlaw throws bottle of liquor without lighting the piece of cloth. If it hits the floor, it will create a puddle of alcohol. If it hits an enemy, he will be drenched in liquor. Either Outlaw can light it up with his Stick of Dynamite or an already lit Molotov Cocktail, causing a fire on the floor or on the enemy, or Pyro can light it up with his Flamethrower or Flare Gun.

* * *

Tertiary Weapon: Pistol

Ammo: 7 out of 28

Damage: 6 to 10 per round

Crit Damage: 26 to 30 per round

Pro: Good for finishing off enemies after using Primary/Secondary weapons

Con: Slow _Rate of Fire_; doesn't deal a lot of damage overall

* * *

Melee Weapon: Cattle Prod

Damage: Up to 60

Crit Damage: Up to 180

Additional Information: This is no ordinary Cattle Prod. It's a Cattle Prod that's been tweaked by the Outlaw himself. Electricity will travel through enemy's body when he is hit.

* * *

_**Unlock/Drop/Purchase/Craft**_ Items

Primary Weapon: Hand Grenade

Ammo: 15 in total

Damage: Up to 70

Crit Damage: Up to 210

Pro: Unlike the Rocketeer, the Outlaw has more ammunition

Con: Unlike the Rocketeer's Hand Grenades, the Outlaw's do less damage

Additional Information: This weapon does not require a lighter

* * *

Primary Weapon: C-4 Explosive

Ammo: 12 in total

Damage: Up to 80

Crit Damage: Up to 240

Pro: Huge _Explosion Radius_

Con: Slightly lower ammunition

Additional Information: Instead of a lighter, C-4 is detonated with a remote control ("Right Mouse" button)

* * *

Primary Weapon: Muy Caliente (Hot Coal Launcher)

Info: Muy Caliente is in the shape of a machine gun, only the ammo is placed on top of the weapon. Coals the size of golf balls are placed inside a bowl. When pulling the trigger, the rounds are fired out of the barrel of the rifle one by one (a half-second delay after each discharge). The Outlaw lights the coals on fire, and the size of the flames indicate level of damage. When the flames on the coals are large, the weapon will deal greatest damage to enemies. But when the fire begins to die out, damage to enemies will decrease. When the fire disappears completely, then the coals will be useless. This means that ammunition has to be relit with the lighter (the "Right Mouse" button). It cannot be relit when it's still burning; it has to be done when the flames are all gone. In addition, when a coal hits an enemy, it breaks apart and the remains fall to the floor. Splash damage is small, but with plenty of ammunition, it probably won't be a problem. Unfortunately, the enemy can't be set on fire with this weapon.

Ammo: 50 in total

Damage: 11 to 33

Crit Damage: 77 to 99

Pro: Plenty of ammunition, and no need to reload

Con: Not very accurate at long range

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Spicy Delight (Explosive Bell Pepper)

Info: These aren't ordinary bell peppers. The Outlaw has injected them with gasoline. He lights the fuse (which is the pepper's stem) and throws them at enemies. When landing on impact, there's a 1-second delay before explosion. Also, the bell peppers come in four different colors: red, green, yellow, and orange.

Ammo: 25 in total

Damage: Up to 40

Crit Damage: Up to 120

Pro: Plenty of ammunition

Con: _Explosion Radius_ is rather small

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Executioner (Bomb)

Ammo: 1 in total

Damage: Up to 110

Crit Damage: Up to 330

Pro: This is the strongest weapon in the Outlaw's arsenal. It has enormous _Explosion Radius_, and deals incredible harm to enemies.

Con: Like the Soldier's Buff Banner and the Scout's Sandman, the Bomb must be recharged after use. It takes about 90 seconds for it to be fully regenerated. Plus, there's a 2-second delay before explosion.

Additional Information: Appearance of the Bomb is typically cartoonish: black-colored sphere with a fuse on top, and a hissing noise when the fuse is lit.

* * *

Tertiary Weapon: Triple Threat (Pistol)

Info: This pistol has three barrels, which means it only gives off burst-fire. All three barrels go off at the same time.

Ammo: 3 out of 15 (Total of 75 Rounds)

Damage: 22 to 26 per round

Crit Damage: 74 to 78 per round

Pro: Deals greater damage than original Pistol

Con: Spends ammunition quickly

* * *

Melee Weapon: Sacred Shocker (Cattle Prod)

Damage: Up to 65

Crit Damage: Up to 195

Pro: Each kill refreshes health by 25

Con: Be warned. If he can't hit an enemy with his melee weapon, then he loses 10 Health every time he misses. This is because the Sacred Shocker is so powerful, that the electricity injures the Outlaw when it can't travel through someone else's body.

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

WEATHERMAN

Real Name: Shane

Age: 34

Race: Native-American

Hometown: Kansas City, Missouri

* * *

Health: 200

Job: Defense

* * *

Appearance: Tall, long black hair, clean shaven, brown skin, muscular in an ordinary manner (NOT like Saxton Hale)

Clothes: Black pants, white short-sleeved undershirt, Red/Blue shirt wrapped around the waist, Red/Blue headband around his forehead

* * *

Sprinting Speed: Slightly faster than Soldier

Weakness: The Weatherman cannot pick up health/ammo packs. He can still, however, use a dispenser or a resupply locker.

* * *

Description of Arsenal: As his name suggests, his weapons and ammunition have something to do with the dark side of nature: lightning, acid rain, blizzard, wind, etc.

* * *

Primary Weapon: Lightning Launcher

Ammo: 20 in total

Damage: 45 to 85 (depending on distance)

Crit Damage: 210 to 255 (again, depending on distance)

Pro: No need to reload

Con: Slow _Rate of Fire_ (after first bolt of lightning, every other round has a 1 ½-second delay before discharge)

Additional Information: Each lightning bolt can reach an enemy at the speed of light: an immediate hit for an enemy when the trigger to the Lightning Launcher is pulled. The long rays of electric light that are ejected from the weapon have an endless length, meaning that each bolt of lightning can be up to 200 feet long.

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Hailstone Launcher

Info: The hailstones, which are the size of golf balls, are discharged from a custom-built machine gun.

Ammo: 200 in total

Damage: 11 to 19 per round

Crit Damage: 49 to 57 per round

Pro: Plenty of ammunition; no need to reload

Con: Due to fast _Rate of Fire_, ammunition is spent rather quickly

* * *

Melee Weapon: Sledgehammer

Damage: Up to 60

Crit Damage: Up to 180

* * *

_**Unlock/Drop/Purchase/Craft**_ Items

Primary Weapon: Cold Wave

Info: Cold Wave is the exact opposite of Pyro's flamethrower: instead of fire, the rifle-shaped weapon spews out white plumes of cold air which lowers enemy's body temperature. When an enemy is hit with cold air, not only will he take damage, but his sprinting speed will decrease. The lower his health, the slower his movement will be. However, an enemy Pyro can warm him up with his Flamethrower and give him back his original sprinting speed. The Pyro can't refresh health, though.

Ammo: Unlimited

Damage: Up to 70

Crit Damage: Up to 210

Pro: No need to reload (like the Soldier's Cow Mangler)

Con: Weapon does tend to freeze up (after 7 to 8 rounds), so the Weatherman must wait until it warms up before using it again

* * *

Primary Weapon: Extreme Drought

Info: Extreme Drought is the exact opposite of Cold Wave: instead of cold air, the rifle-shaped weapon spews out gold-colored plumes of hot air which "dehydrates" the enemy. When an enemy is hit with hot air, not only will he take damage, but he will also start to feel dizzy (blurred vision and wobbly movement). The dizziness, which is one of the most common symptoms of dehydration, can disappear when the enemy refreshes his health (with dispensers and such).

Ammo: Unlimited

Damage: Up to 80

Crit Damage: Up to 240

Pro: Deals greater damage to enemies than Cold Wave; No need to reload

Con: Weapon tends to overheat (after 6 to 7 rounds), so the Weatherman must wait until it cools down before using it again (slower recovery than Cold Wave)

* * *

Primary Weapon: The Wind Machine

Info: The Wind Machine is a custom-built rifle that discharges rounds of powerful gale winds (in the shape of blue-colored light-bending cylinders). The gale winds travel slightly faster than Soldier's rockets. When an enemy is hit, the winds cause him to spontaneously combust when hit directly (just like the Rocket Launcher).

Ammo: 15 in total

Damage: Up to 90

Crit Damage: Up to 270

Pro: Deals more damage to enemies than Lightning Launcher; No need to reload

Con: Less ammunition than Lightning Launcher

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Acid Rain

Info: Acid Rain is kept inside a glass sphere, nearly half-full. When thrown at an enemy, the glass sphere will break apart and the enemy will be drenched in Acid Rain. The color of the liquid is dark green.

Ammo: 1 in total

Damage: 5 to 18 every 1 second (a total of 8 seconds)

Crit Damage: 41 to 54 every 1 second

Pro: Each kill with this weapon refreshes health by 25; health is refreshed by 3 for every one second

Con: Like the Soldier's Buff Banner and Sniper's Jarate, the Acid Rain must be recharged after use (a total of 15 seconds)

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Mutant Snowball

Ammo: 1 in total

Damage: none

Crit Damage: none

Pro: When an enemy is hit with a Snowball, the cold temperature freezes them in place for 10 seconds. The enemy can't use his weapons, though he is able to use his Taunt Kill.

Con: Deals no damage to enemies; must be recharged after use (a total of 20 seconds)

Additional Information: If an enemy is hit with the Snowball, the enemy Pyro is absolutely useless as he cannot eliminate the freezing temperature with his flamethrower.

* * *

Melee Weapon: Good Ole Club (Medieval Mace)

Damage: Up to 60

Crit Damage: Up to 180

Additional Information: Each kill refreshes health by 50, while each hit refreshes health by 10

* * *

Melee Weapon: American Warfare (Traditional Native-American Spear)

Damage: Up to 65

Crit Damage: Up to 195

Pro: Gives the Weatherman faster sprinting speed; each kill refreshes health by 50

Con: Lowers maximum health at 175


	21. Updated Info on Femme Fatale & Bodyguard

FEMME FATALE

Real Name: Victoria

Age: 32

Race: Sri Lankan

Hometown: Somewhere in Sri Lanka

* * *

Health: 150

Job: Support

* * *

Appearance: Long black hair, dark skin

Clothes: Red/Blue long-sleeved shirt, long black skirt that reaches the ankles

* * *

Sprinting Speed: About as fast as Spy

Weakness: The Femme Fatale is unable to deal Crits or Mini-Crits to enemies (though she can still regain health and become invulnerable with the Medic's arsenal). The Kritzkrieg and Buff Banner will not be useful.

* * *

Primary Weapon: AK-47

Ammo: 30 out of 120 Rounds

Damage: 6 to 20 per round

Pro: Plenty of ammunition; accurate at close range

Con: Not very accurate at a far distance

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Pistol

Ammo: 10 out of 50 Rounds

Damage: 9 to 13 per round

Pro: Plenty of ammunition

Con: Slow rate of fire

* * *

Tertiary Weapon: Flash Grenade

Ammo: 1 in total

Damage: None

Info: Flash of light gives enemy blindness for a maximum for 8 seconds. Also, like the Heavy's Sandvich and the Soldier's Buff Banner, the Flash Grenade must be recharged after use (a total of 25 seconds). The blindness is in the form of the color white that fills the entire computer screen.

Pro: Good way to escape from enemies if cornered; invulnerability is given to Femme Fatale when enemies go blind (it disappears when the blindness fades and vanishes)

Con: Does not do damage to Enemy's health; Femme Fatale cannot kill/injure them when they're blind (though other players on her team can).

* * *

Melee Weapon: Straight Razor

Damage: Up to 50

Additional Information: Straight Razor might be a small melee weapon, but Femme Fatale does know how to deal a lot of damage with it.

* * *

Specialty: Grappling Hook

Info: The Grapping Hook enables the Femme Fatale to reach rooftops, high balconies, and open windows. The hook is in the shape of an arrowhead. The rope is made of metal. The only downside to the Grappling Hook is that the rope has a limited length of fifty feet.

* * *

_**Unlock/Drop/Purchase/Craft **_Items

Primary Weapon: M-16 Assault Rifle

Ammo: 30 out of 150 Rounds

Damage: 8 to 23 per round

Pro: More ammunition than AK-47; deals more damage than AK-47

Con: Less accuracy than AK-47

* * *

Primary Weapon: FN FAL Battle Rifle

Ammo: 30 out of 150 Rounds

Damage: 8 to 28 per round

Pro: Deals more damage than AK-47; raises maximum health at 175

Con: Femme Fatale is unable to use any of her Tertiary Weapons

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Throwing Knives

Ammo: 10 in Total

Damage: 75 to 125

Pro: Deals plenty of damage to enemies; very high accuracy

Con: Low ammunition

Additional Information: When an enemy is hit, he will "bleed" for about four seconds, taking at least 3 damage every half-second.

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Ace of Spades

Ammo: 10 in Total

Damage: No Damage…Just Death

Info: Ace of Spades from a deck of cards symbolizes death. When the Femme Fatale flings it and hits an enemy with it, there is a countdown towards extinction. The enemy is given a specific amount of time to grab a health pack, reach a dispenser, or return to the resupply locker. If he cannot do any of these things in time, then he will evaporate into thin air. The Medic's healing weapons are considered useless against the countdown. The Scout, Assassin, Rocketeer, Engineer, and enemy Femme Fatale are given 15 seconds to avoid death. The Spy, Medic, Sniper, and Pyro are given 20 seconds. The Demoman, Soldier, Outlaw, and Weatherman are given 25 seconds. The Heavy and Bodyguard are given 30 seconds.

Additional Information: The Assassin is also able to obtain the Ace of Spades, but in a different way. While the Femme Fatale can unlock it, the Assassin can craft it.

* * *

Tertiary Weapon: Love Potion

Ammo: 1 in Total

Damage: none

Info: Love Potion is a pink-colored liquid enclosed inside a glass perfume bottle. When thrown at an enemy, the glass breaks apart. Any enemy that will be drenched in liquid will go blind (with love). The blindness is in the shape of the color pink that fills the entire computer screen.

Pro: Longer blindness time than Flash Grenade; invulnerability is given to Femme Fatale when enemies go blind (it disappears when the blindness fades and vanishes)

Con: Longer time to recharge than Flash Grenade (a total of 30 seconds); deals no damage to enemies. Also, Femme Fatale cannot kill/injure them when they're blind (though other players on her team can).

* * *

Tertiary Weapon: Sitar

Ammo: No ammo

Damage: none

Info: When the Femme Fatale plucks the strings, any enemy that is within a 25-foot radius will be stunned, frozen in place (just like when the Scout's Sandman is used). Enemies will stay stunned for a total of 8 seconds, enough time for the Femme Fatale to escape if she is cornered.

Pro: Femme Fatale is able to use this against more than one enemy at the same time; invulnerability is given to her when enemies go blind (it disappears when the blindness fades and vanishes)

Con: Deals no damage to enemies; longer time to recharge than Love Potion (a total of 45 seconds). Femme Fatale cannot kill/injure them when they're stunned (though other players on her team can).

Note on Sitar: This musical instrument is primarily used in India, though certain musicians from Sri Lanka have been known to play it.

* * *

Melee Weapon: Justice for All (Stiletto Dagger)

Damage: Up to 55

Pro: Primary/Secondary Weapons are given more ammunition: 60 more rounds for rifles and 10 more rounds for Pistol, Knives, and Ace of Spades

Con: Maximum health is lowered at 135

* * *

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.

.

* * *

Not much of an update for Bodyguard, but here are two _**Unlock/Drop/Purchase/Craft**_ weapons

Primary Weapon: Bloodhound (Double-Barrel Automatic Shotgun)

Info: This automatic shotgun has two barrels

Ammo: 25/25 out of 150 Shells

Damage: Up to 80 per two shells

Crit Damage: Up to 240 per two shells

Pros:

Increases maximum health at 300

Deals greater damage to enemies

Gives Mini-Crits when using melee weapon

Cons:

Gives Bodyguard slower sprinting speed (Heavy's speed)

Slower reloading

Unable to use Tertiary Weapon

* * *

Melee Weapon: Sultan of Death (Trident)

Damage: Up to 65

Pro: Increases maximum health at 300

Con: No Crit Damage

* * *

Coming up next:

Lights! Camera! Chaos!


	22. SS - Lights! Camera! Chaos!

Note: These "Solo Stories" are not related to Meet the Bodyguard or its upcoming sequel, Guardians of Tara-lorium.

* * *

SOLO STORY

Lights! Camera! Chaos!

* * *

"What's the name of this movie again?"

"_Attack of the Canadian Ghost Hounds_."

Saturday evening meant that Scout, Assassin, and Rocketeer spent their time sitting in front of the television set. They sat on the sofa and watched as the "ghost hounds" terrorized a small town in North Dakota. The movie had everything that a pathetic B-movie could have: poor acting, cheap special effects, and an irritating music score. But Scout, Assassin, and Rocketeer enjoyed watching it, anyway. They laughed at plot inconsistencies, cheesy dialogue, and unforgettably bad background paintings. They did this while eating potato chips and drinking soda pop.

A few minutes later, Weatherman, Engineer, and Sniper arrived in the room with beer bottles in their hands.

Sniper asked, "What are you watching?"

Rocketeer kept his eyes on the screen. "It's a movie about Canadian hounds."

Engineer remarked, "They don't even look like hounds."

Assassin chuckled. "That's because they're played by teenagers in dog costumes."

Sniper took a seat on another sofa. "Explain to us why they're attacking a small town."

Assassin pointed at the television screen. "They want revenge against the mayor. I'd give you the full details, but it would take at least ten minutes to explain what happened so far."

Engineer took a sip of his beer. "This looks preposterous. Why don't ya watch somethin' else?"

Scout gave him an inquisitive stare. "I don't think you know the true meaning of watching movies like these. You just sit back, relax, and laugh your ass off as the movie completely humiliates itself."

"I'd hate to be the director who made this."

Rocketeer replied, "That would be George Spiller. He got fired when this movie came out. You would think that Universal Pictures wouldn't be stupid enough to release this kind of movie…but they didn't know Spiller."

Sniper asked, "Did you know him personally?"

"He made one of our movies: _Teenage Football Witches from Jupiter_."

"And your studio didn't kick him out?"

"We knew it would be a masterpiece."

Engineer asked, "Then how come we've never heard about it?"

"When Spiller died, he wanted the film reel in his coffin. Dollars had been wasted, but we respected his decision."

Engineer sat beside Sniper and said, "I've been meaning to ask you about something. How many films did you make in Hollywood?"

"We lost count a long time ago. I think our studio created over a hundred films. Our parents and I are so proud to be a part of L.A. history."

At this point, Engineer sighed and shook his head. He walked up to Engineer and Sniper and whispered, "I know what he's going to say next, but it's going to be in a very alien language. Let me translate for you."

Rocketeer smiled as he reflected on the past. "I remember when my mother and father bought the studio fifteen years ago. It would be the place where we bring our passions to life."

Weatherman whispered to Engineer and Sniper, "_It's a very SMALL film studio_."

"We knew the sets in the studio would be just right."

"_Their sets are the size of a two-car garage_."

"Cooperating with celebrities everyday became such a fantastic experience."

"_The only celebrity they've ever met was the old woman with the birds in_ Mary Poppins."

"When we made our films, we knew that we would join the supremacy of Universal and Warner Bros."

"_Their films never made it to the big screen_. _They're more like midnight movies that you see on TV_."

Sniper now understood the Hollywood language. He asked Rocketeer, "And why did your parents kick you and Yvonne out of the studio?"

Rocketeer shrugged his shoulders. "Typical Hollywood cockiness: they didn't like our screenwriting, so they wrote their own scripts."

Weatherman almost laughed. "That never happened. You paid too much money for your newest film, and the studio almost went flat broke. You would have completed it if your parents didn't realize that it was a really bad rip-off of _Doctor Zhivago_."

"Hey, screenwriting takes a lot of work. We didn't even have time to learn about that movie."

"But the book's been out for ten years now."

"Let me tell you something about-"

Assassin sighed. "Jason, just give it up."

Scout cleared his throat. "Do you guys mind? I thought we were supposed to watch _Attack of the Canadian Ghost Hounds _in peace."

The phone in the next room suddenly rang. Weatherman walked away as he said, "I'll get that."

The rest of the mercenaries watched as the "ghost hounds" started devouring farmers.

Engineer started to observe a major flaw in the scene. "Is that a boom mic I see?"

Rocketeer replied, "Apparently, Spiller didn't like using artificial sound effects."

Weatherman returned and said, "Jason, it's for you. It's someone who goes by the name of Grady."

Assassin's eyes lit up. "_Joseph_ Grady?"

Both Assassin and Rocketeer stood up from their seat and left the room. Scout, Sniper, Engineer, and Weatherman continued to watch the movie.

Rocketeer put the handset up to his ear. "Hello, Joseph?"

"_Hello, Jason, you don't know how long I've been trying to find you and your sister_."

"How did you get this number?"

"_I asked your Administrator about where you were_."

This could get interesting. "She didn't say anything else, did she?"

"_No, but she reminded me that I would die a horrible death if I notified the authorities_. _But let's get to why I'm calling you_. _Do you remember the time you and your sister used to work for me_?"

"Yeah, we made a lot of TV commercials for you."

"_You sure did. Now, you're not doing anything important for the next several days, are you_?"

"Well…there might be a time where we have to fight against a group of pissed-off robots."

"_Uh-huh, do you think you have some time to film a brand new commercial_?"

Rocketeer felt excited again. "What kind of commercial?"

"_It's for Silver Dollar Cola. It has to be at least thirty seconds long, and it requires only one actor. We having a bit of trouble with our director, so we thought you could be perfect for the job_."

"You've already got the script ready?"

"_Yes_."

"Come on, Joseph. You know that Yvonne and I always write our own scripts. The two of us can film it right here in our own workplace."

"_It'll take time to send the equipment to your place_."

"You don't have to do that. We already have our own camera. It's in the hallway closet. We kept it just in case we had the urge to film a documentary in this place."

"_What about the actor_?"

"Don't worry about that. In fact, don't worry about all of it. Yvonne and I will take care of it. We already have the camera, the bottle, and the actor. All we have to do is mail the film reel to your studio."

"_Just make sure that it's good enough to be put on television_."

They said goodbye and hung up their phones. Rocketeer smiled as he told Yvonne, "We are filmmakers again."

Assassin asked, "What's the commercial about?"

"It's for Silver Dollar Cola. You and Simon always drink that stuff. There are plenty of them in the fridge."

"Who are we gonna to play the presenter?"

"First, we gotta write the script. Then, we'll see who'll give a noteworthy performance."

* * *

With the use of a typewriter, they finished the script in just fifteen minutes. They reviewed the scenario after completion. It seemed legitimately fair and balanced. The presenter, feeling a bit composed after a hard day's work, explains that nothing can top Silver Dollar Cola when regaining relaxation. This sort of scenario had become routine during their era of creating various commercials, but they always added new material as time went on.

Assassin handed the script back to Rocketeer and said, "So who should play the presenter?"

Rocketeer scratched his head. "It's gotta be someone who's good enough to appear on TV."

"How about Victoria?"

"The Femme Fatale? I don't think she'd want to reveal herself to the public like that."

"Okay…how about the Engineer?"

"That doesn't seem like a bad choice at all. He's sure got the voice for it, and he might actually have some fun with it. But will he agree to this?"

"Let's find out."

Rocketeer held the script in his hand as he and Assassin returned to the lounge. Scout, Engineer, Sniper, and Weatherman remained attached to the atrocious cheesiness of _Attack of the Canadian Ghost Hounds_.

Assassin walked up to Engineer and asked, "You're not doing anything special tomorrow, are you?"

Engineer kept his eyes on the TV. "No, why?"

"How would you like to star in a commercial?"

Engineer quickly looked away from the screen and sounded a little more enthusiastic. "You want me to be in a commercial? What kind?"

Rocketeer replied, "It's for Silver Dollar Cola, the same brand that's been in the fridge for a long time."

"Heck, yeah! I've always wanted to try a little actin' now and then."

Scout raised an eyebrow. "Hey, how about me?"

Rocketeer chuckled. "You have to be over the age of 18 to do this kind of stuff."

"I'm 20 years old!"

"In that case, you have to be someone that I _like_."

Scout folded his arms across his chest and continued to watch the movie in annoyance.

Engineer asked, "When do you start filming?"

"We start tomorrow at noon. Here's the script."

Rocketeer handed Engineer the script.

As the Texan read it, Weatherman remarked, "Don't you need a camera?"

Assassin replied, "We already have one in the hallway closet."

"Why did you pick Engineer?"

"We thought he would best fit the commercial."

"I think you should be careful. You already know how long everyone else's been begging you for their chance at Hollywood glory."

"But like you said, we never had any glory in Hollywood to start with."

* * *

At midnight, Rocketeer and Assassin prepared themselves for bed. They lay on their bunk beds, but just as they were about to close their eyes, the arrival of both Demoman and Medic almost took them by surprise.

Assassin sat up. "What's happening? Is there an intruder?"

Medic shook his head. "Nothing is happening."

Rocketeer asked, "Then what's going on?"

Demoman cleared his throat. "We hear that the soda in the fridge will be seen on TV."

"…Yeah?"

"And we hear that the Engineer has been chosen as your spokesperson."

"…Is there a point to this conversation?"

Medic replied, "Ve just vant to remind you that ze man does not have any acting experience."

"It doesn't matter. He's got the look and the voice. And besides, the commercial's gonna be only thirty seconds long. It's not like it's gonna be a groundbreaker."

Demoman remarked, "Trust us, Jason. You would be better off with people who have actually done a bit of acting in their younger years."

Assassin felt amused. "You've been in movies?"

"No, on the stage."

Medic said, "Ze two of us have performed on ze stage a long time ago."

"At school, I'm guessing."

"Ja…at ze Siegfried School of Acting in Stuttgart."

"That sounds like an elementary school."

"How did you know?"

Jason grew impatient. "I'm sorry, guys. But we've already chosen the Engineer. But if there's a need to film another commercial, we'll keep you in mind."

With disappointed looks on their faces, Demoman and Medic left the room in complete silence.

Assassin whispered to Rocketeer, "They sounded really serious."

"At least they're smart enough to leave this alone."

* * *

In the morning, Rocketeer and Assassin watched as Engineer rehearsed his lines. The scenario centered on Engineer finishing up his car repair. He would take a sip of soda and it would instantly give him assurance that he has spent his day wisely. It seemed pretty silly, but commercials had to be commercials. Engineer had memorized the script from beginning to end:

"I always enjoy taking my time when I fix up my Ford in the afternoon. It's one of those chores where I use all of my energy and concentration to give it a proper appearance. But there are times when I start to feel skeptical about my own work. I think to myself, 'was it worth it'? And that's when I decide to have a little refreshment. I take a sip of Silver Dollar Cola, and it completes me. The cool and refreshing taste gives me the ultimate guarantee that my good honest work has become a part of my heartfelt reputation. I am always ready to say that I have spent my time wisely. Silver Dollar Cola: it _will_ complete you."

Engineer asked, "Is it always this descriptive?"

Rocketeer replied, "No, but we're always having fun writing it. Now, filming will begin today at 11:30 AM. We'll meet outside."

* * *

Rocketeer and Assassin were prepared to film. It was 11:30 AM. The camera had been placed on top of the tripod. The pickup truck required for the scene was ready to do. There was not a cloud in sight in the sky. Everything seemed perfect, except for the fact that Engineer didn't show up yet. Rocketeer and Assassin waited twenty more minutes, and the man still didn't appear for the shoot.

Demoman and Medic had arrived, possibly to watch them film the commercial.

Assassin asked, "Where's Randy?"

Demoman replied, "He's not feeling well."

Rocketeer became suspicious. "What do you mean he's not feeling well?"

"He got himself some food poisoning. The bologna that he ate a few minutes ago didn't sit very well in his stomach."

Medic added, "But do not vorry. I have given him some medicine, and he needs to lie down for ze next six hours."

Rocketeer sighed. "Did any of this have anything to do with your wanting to _sabotage_ this commercial?"

Medic looked offended…or at least faked looking offended. "Now why would you say that?"

Assassin whispered in Rocketeer's ear. "What have we got to lose?"

Rocketeer took a few seconds to accept the reality. "…All right. But we're going with the Scotsman. He looks good enough to drink some soda."

* * *

But it didn't go very well this way. Before the official shoot, Demoman and Medic argued with each other over who should appear in the commercial. Rocketeer and Assassin had to wait a few more minutes before the German and Scotsman used more aggressive language. To avoid a fistfight, Medic quickly injected a sedative in Demoman's bloodstream with a syringe after Demoman swung his fist and missed. Demoman fell asleep on the dirt floor, looking as if he dozed off after drinking a dozen bottles of liquor.

Medic threw the empty syringe aside. "Now, it is only me."

Rocketeer felt relieved that the argument ended. "Good, but just make sure you memorized the script correctly. We don't want millions of people to think you're reading off of a cue card."

Medic's eyes widened. "…Millions of people?"

"Yeah, this commercial is going to air all over the United States. You said you attended acting school, right?"

"Ja…but the auditorium held only two hundred people."

"Well, about twenty million Americans will get to see you on the TV screen."

Assassin noticed something on the Medic's forehead. "Ludwig, are you sweating?"

Medic wiped his forehead. "It is just the sun."

"It's seventy-five degrees right now."

Rocketeer asked, "You're not nervous now, are you?"

Medic replied, "Nein, not at all."

"Then, let's get to it."

* * *

What Rocketeer and Assassin didn't realize was that Medic didn't exactly master the art of holding back stage fright. When Assassin turned on the camera and Rocketeer revealed the clapperboard, Medic took his time saying even the first sentence of dialogue.

"I…I…uh…I always…uh…take my time…driving…"

Rocketeer yelled, "Cut! Ludwig, the word 'driving' isn't even in the script."

"Just give me time, Mein director."

Assassin remarked, "You're sweating again."

Medic wiped his forehead again.

Rocketeer clapped the clapperboard, and the shoot continued.

"I…uh…I always enjoy taking my time when I fix up my fjord in the afternoon."

"Cut! That's _Ford_, not fjord."

"Vat is ze difference?"

"Do I have to give you a lesson about brand names and geography?"

Meanwhile, Scout, Spy, and Bodyguard arrived and observed the filming in session. They tried hard not to laugh as they watched Medic trying hard not to mess up his lines.

"I always enjoy taking my time when I fix up my Ford in the afternoon. It's one of those cores where I use all of my synergy and contemplation to give it a proper examination."

"Cut! Ludwig, shouldn't you at least try to stop your stage fright?"

Bodyguard commented, "Try putting a bag over his head. Maybe then, he'll know that he won't have to see the millions of Americans watching him drink soda."

Bodyguard's sarcasm made Scout and Spy laugh.

Assassin turned off the camera. "This isn't working out."

Rocketeer just had an idea. "If a German won't stop himself from pissing his pants, then maybe a Frenchman will."

He called out to Spy and asked if he wanted to appear in the commercial. Spy had to think about it for a few seconds before he approved of Rocketeer's next choice for a spokesperson.

Filming began again. This time, Spy memorized the script and did a bit of ad-libbing. He gave a good presentation of a man and his soda. But right in the middle of the scene, Assassin slowly turned the camera away from Spy. She pointed it directly at Scout, who seemed to enjoy being in the spotlight temporarily. The Bostonian gave a smile and showed off his muscles. Rocketeer noticed that Assassin took her time filming her new boyfriend. He grabbed hold of the camera and whispered to Assassin, "Yvonne…do the words _Unemployment Office_ mean anything to you?"

Assassin quickly regained her senses and turned the camera back to Spy. Filming continued, but not without more interruptions. Just when Spy was about to take a sip of soda, Bodyguard popped out of nowhere and yelled "Silver Dollar Cola: it _will_ complete you!"

"Cut!" Rocketeer felt confused. "Nazir, what are you doing?"

"I'm just finishing his sentence. That is all."

"You're not even a part of the scene."

"Oh, but you don't realize the importance of being an actor."

"Don't tell me you used to be in plays at an elementary school."

"Actually, I haven't. But you can see that I have the looks and the proper demeanor."

Rocketeer didn't buy it. "You're not good enough to be in the commercial. Besides, we already have Jean-Philippe as our spokesperson."

At that moment, Bodyguard punched Spy in the face, knocking him unconscious.

"Not anymore."

Rocketeer and Assassin looked at each other before they nonchalantly repeated filming. It seemed to go well with Bodyguard, until he took a sip of soda. He spit it out and yelled, "The taste! It is absolutely horrifying!"

Rocketeer's impatience grew higher. "You're supposed to enjoy the stuff. That's what the commercial is all about."

Bodyguard blurted, "But this isn't soda. This is sulfur! Unbelievable!"

Bodyguard walked away, disgusted. Assassin suggested another spokesperson to Rocketeer, who had no choice but to use it.

It was now Scout's turn to be in front of the camera. Unfortunately, he became himself when he presented the bottle of soda.

"You know what I like to do? I like to fixe things up, like my pickup truck right here. She's beautiful, isn't she? I fix her up, and I fix her up good. But is it even worth the effort? Am I just wasting my freakin' time here? I say no! You're crazy! Of course, it's all worth it. Because I've got my soda pop right here. That's right. Silver Dollar Cola. You drink it, and you're an entirely different person, you know? It tastes like crap, but at least you'll feel good about your stupid little self. I feel good about myself, because I drink this crap. You should, too. And if you don't, I'll come by to your house and force-feed ya the stuff. And not only that, but I'm gonna kick ya in the nuts so you can't take a piss. This stuff will stay inside of ya for a very long time. That's how confident I am. Silver Dollar Cola: you better do what I say, you wuss."

Rocketeer shook his head. "I think I need a drink."

When Scout had been thrown out of the shoot, Rocketeer and Assassin chose Soldier for their spokesperson. But Soldier didn't take the material lightly. He started to act like he was in a Shakespearean play, overacting and abusing his limited vocabulary while completely immersing himself with the dialogue.

"Cut! Troy, this isn't _Hamlet_. This is just a commercial."

Soldier grunted. "You Hollywood Sissy-Mary's don't know real acting when you see one."

Soldier was out, and the Heavy was in. The Russian felt pretty confident about the shoot. But his crude memorization of the script became his downfall.

"I enjoy spent wisely times Ford Silver Dollar ultimate guarantee skeptical concentration-"

"Cut! Boris, all the words are not in the right order."

Heavy clenched his fists. "Are you criticizing my performance?"

"Yes, now get the hell out of here."

Pyro had been next. The only problem was that his dialogue had been a bit distorted because of his gas mask. Rocketeer asked if he could take off his gas mask for the shoot, but Pyro angrily refused.

Rocketeer asked, "Why not?"

Pyro yelled, "Mmmmhmmmhrhm!"

"…Huh."

In the end, three hours worth of filming had passed. Rocketeer and Assassin knew that they couldn't use any of the material. They tried to ask the rest of the RED team, but everyone else argued either over their performances or their possible future performances. Scout and Heavy got into a fist fight with Soldier and Bodyguard. Pyro chased the Medic with his Axe. Outlaw and Weatherman used antagonistic language against each other. Femme Fatale tormented Sniper with her Grappling Hook. Spy was still knocked unconscious as he lay on the ground alongside Demoman, who was still dozing off due to the sedative.

Rocketeer and Assassin couldn't stand the sight of the pandemonium that occurred outside of the barracks.

Assassin sighed. "I guess it's over."

Rocketeer turned off the camera. "We're hopelessly on hiatus."

* * *

Coming up next:

Kitchen Nightmare


	23. SS - Kitchen Nightmare

Note: Maybe I should have been more specific. Anyway, for the next several chapters, there will be short stories that concentrate on the six recruits and their chemistry with the RED Team. It's gonna take awhile for Guardians of Tara-lorium to be published.

* * *

SHORT STORY

Kitchen Nightmare

* * *

On a Sunday afternoon, Heavy and Bodyguard tested their intelligence and proficiency with a game of chess. Right outside the barracks, Soldier and Demoman leaned against the wall and watched as the Russian and the Saudi Arabian scratched their chins and gazed at the chessboard in front of them. This would have been exciting if they had just moved a little quicker with their permanent decisions. It took an average of five minutes for each player to move a chess piece. When Heavy moved a Bishop closer to one of Bodyguard's Knights, Bodyguard kept silent as he took his time to comprehend the current situation. Six minutes had passed and Bodyguard still didn't make a move.

Demoman sighed and whispered to Soldier, "Do they even know how to play the bloody game?"

Soldier whispered back, "Don't ask me. I don't even know what a Rook is supposed to do."

"This is very tedious. We should be watching TV instead."

"We can't. Our two recruits from Hollywood are watching a _Tom & Jerry_ marathon."

"And it had to happen at a time like this."

"If you want, we could play _Pin the Wrench on the Engineer_."

"Didn't we do that yesterday?"

Bodyguard finally made his move. He moved his last pawn right next to the rival Bishop. When he finished, Heavy didn't have to think about his next move. He knocked away Bodyguard's Queen with his Knight and murmured, "Checkmate. I win."

Bodyguard laughed. "I shouldn't have moved that Rook in the first place. That was a good game, Boris."

"It was good game, Nazir."

Heavy removed all the chess pieces from the board. Soldier and Demoman sighed with relief.

Soldier whispered, "Thank God _that's_ over."

Demoman nodded. "Aye. What shall we do now?"

"There's nothing else to do on a Sunday afternoon. Let's play some American football with Weatherman."

"But I don't know how to play that sport."

"That's why it'll be fun."

When Heavy put the chessboard away, Medic arrived at the barracks. Demoman asked about the newly built cafeteria that the Administrator had proposed. Since fifteen RED mercenaries now resided in the base, a private dining hall was considered. As of today, the construction of the building had been completed. The cafeteria was not too small and not too large, enough room for everyone in the dining room and enough space for the chefs. The Administrator had personally hired a total of four chefs for the kitchen. They signed confidentiality agreements and promised not to inform their families where they worked. But even if the cafeteria was finished, the chefs didn't arrive for their first day on the job. Everyone wondered if they had been kidnapped by members from the Builders League United.

Medic told his friends that there was still no change. "The chefs have not arrived yet. The pots and pans are there, but people are still missing in the kitchen."

Heavy scratched his head. "I wonder why they do not show up."

Demoman replied, "Maybe they're lost. This is a desolate place after all."

Soldier sighed. "And I really wanted to have a little taste of catfish tonight."

Medic shrugged his shoulders. "Ve'll just have to wait for a few more days. Ve still have some sandwiches in the refrigerator."

But then, Bodyguard just had an idea. "You say that the cafeteria is now open?"

Medic replied, "It is."

"And the chefs have not arrived yet?"

"I just said that a minute ago."

Bodyguard raised a finger. "Maybe it would be better if I cook for you tonight."

Demoman felt a bit amused. "You actually know how to cook?"

"Doesn't everybody? Besides, I am willing to cook for every one of you. I do have this passion for roasting pigeons and steaming vegetables."

Medic asked, "Do you specialize in Saudi Arabian cuisine? Because I have had some falafel and shawarma in my days in Stuttgart. It tasted very nice."

"Well, my family and I have been using our own personal recipes. If I have the chance, I would have some fun in the kitchen."

Heavy remarked, "You sound serious."

Bodyguard asked, "What do you say, my friends?"

It didn't take very long for Soldier, Medic, Heavy, and Demoman to respond. They approved of Bodyguard's decision to cook tonight's dinner. Then he asked if any of them wanted to assist him in the kitchen. They all gave excuses, such as checking on Engineer from last night's game of _Pin the Wrench on the Engineer_.

Bodyguard remarked, "Oh, well. I'll ask somebody else. What time is it?"

Medic checked his watch. "It is precisely three o'clock."

"My family recipes take time to repair. I shall acquire the ingredients immediately."

Soldier asked, "Before you go, do you think you can give us a hint of what you'll prepare all afternoon?"

Bodyguard smiled. "Let me just say that it requires lots and LOTS of meat, fruits, and vegetables."

Demoman nodded. "We'll be waiting for it."

When Bodyguard left the barracks, Spy arrived with a concerned look on his face.

Demoman asked him, "Is there something wrong?"

Spy waved his finger at the group. "You shouldn't have approved of his actions."

Heavy started to look confused. "Should we have disappointed him instead?"

"You should _never_ underestimate the horror of family recipes."

Demoman became more attentive when he realized that Spy was warning them of great danger ahead. "Did you ever taste his food?"

Spy shook his head. "No, but I have seen it. His vision of a Middle Eastern cuisine is more of a disconnection from reality. It is a hellish sight to see, gentlemen."

At that moment, Spy and the others noticed that Bodyguard entered the main entrance to the cafeteria, with two live rabbits in his hand. They looked at each other with solemn glances.

* * *

"Are you ready?"

Bodyguard had asked Scout and Pyro if they wanted to assist him with his cooking, to which they agreed. At first, Scout and Pyro became fascinated with what the Saudi Arabian man had in store for them tonight. But then, they observed the ingredients that he had collected for the kitchen. They included rabbits, pumpkins, eggplants, pineapples, honey, lima beans, pigeons, and Gecko lizards.

Scout asked, "Uh…what exactly are you cooking?"

Bodyguard handed him a cutting board as he said, "It's a secret."

Meanwhile, Soldier, Demoman, Heavy, Medic and Spy sat silently in the dining room. Soldier tapped his fingers on the table, while the others listened to what went on in the kitchen. They could hear Scout blurting out common obscenities in the midst of the racquet of pots, pans, and dying animals.

Demoman remarked, "Now I know why they kicked him out of Saudi Arabia."

Soldier took a deep breath. "I can already smell the atrocity from here."

"I don't even want to know which knives he is using for the birds."

Medic covered his ears. "I am so happy that Archimedes does not have to hear any of this."

Spy opened his cigarette case. "We should have stopped him sooner. It is a disaster waiting to happen in the dining room."

Heavy frowned. "But Nazir looked so happy. I would not want to disappoint him."

"It would be better to hurt his feelings than hurt our appetites."

Suddenly, they heard Scout scream, "Oh, my god! The piranhas are alive!"

That almost caught Demoman off guard. "Piranhas?!"

The kitchen doors burst open and Pyro ran wildly around the room with live piranha biting through his suit. Bodyguard chased after him with a rolling pin, yelling, "Don't kill them just yet! We need them for the main course!"

They left the dining room and ran out of the building. Soldier, Demoman, Heavy, Medic, and Spy sat in shocked silence.

Heavy whispered, "I do not wish to be here any longer. The kitchen has just become a chamber of Hell."

Soldier shook his head. "There's only one thing for us to do, men. We've got to man up and suffer the consequences. We've dealt with worse situations than this."

Spy asked, "How can you be so sure?"

* * *

6:30 PM.

Everyone in the RED team, except Bodyguard, dreaded the next sixty minutes. They sat in the dining room in silence. They kept hearing Bodyguard singing what sounded like an Arabic folk song in the kitchen. He was adding the finishing touches of his entrees.

Soldier folded his arms across his chest. "I wish we could just get it over with."

Demoman whispered, "Don't say that. It'll make things worse."

"_It is ready, my friends_!"

Bodyguard arrived in the dining room with his appetizers. He served the RED mercenaries bowls of eggplant soup with margarine and lemon juice. Every one of them looked down at their bowls. The soup looked rather bland with an unexciting appearance. When Sniper took the first sip, he instantly coughed.

He commented, "It doesn't taste like eggplant at all, mate."

Bodyguard smiled. "That is because I also put in some onions and ginseng."

Demoman, Heavy, and Medic already lost their appetites. Pyro kept his gas mask on; a clever way to get him out of this whole ordeal.

Soldier asked, "Why don't we just go straight to the entrees?"

Bodyguard replied, "Oh, I see. You can't wait to try the main course. Fine, I shall bring it here."

He went in the kitchen, and five minutes later, he returned to the dining room with a huge assortment of strange food on plates. He introduced his own homemade cuisine:

*Fried Piranha with carrots, potatoes, and deviled eggs

*Grilled pigeon with pumpkin innards, limburger cheese, and minced soybeans

*Head of a Pig decorated with fish eggs and rabbit intestines

*A whole watermelon stuffed with diced pineapples, asparagus tips, and sour cream

*Sourdough bread coated with caramel, sliced artichokes, and watercress

*Garlic juice

Medic felt so disappointed when he discovered that none of these dishes appeared to be of Saudi Arabian origin, and yet he still felt terrified of the smell and the appearance.

"Why are we doing this?"

Bodyguard finished serving food to the RED mercenaries. He announced, "You all must be wondering why I would go through so much trouble serving you dinner."

Demoman whispered to Medic, "I'm wondering why the chefs haven't arrived to work yet."

Bodyguard continued, "It is because Reliable Excavation Demolition has become my new home. You are my true friends. You have made me feel so welcome. I thought all of my hopes had been lost when I was exiled from my home country. But now I am here, with you fine people. You are like family to me."

Demoman wished he didn't give such a stupid little speech. He faked a smile and said, "You're welcome. Now, do you mind if you leave so we can eat in peace?"

"Oh, no. I wouldn't want to miss the excitement."

"What excitement?"

"It would bring me ease when I see you take the first bites."

Scout cleared his throat. "I don't think we're prepared for that."

The young man, however, didn't know Soldier, who gladly took the first bites of his Fried Piranha.

His friends gave him iniquitous looks. He ignored their stares as he said, "Hate me all you want. But I think it's good."

That prompted Medic to have a little taste of the Grilled Pigeon. It would be a decision he would immediately regret. With his eyes wide open, he couldn't handle the wretched taste of pumpkin innards and limburger cheese. He tried to swallow it with brute strength. When he did, he took a deep breath and wiped off a tear from off his eye.

Soldier asked him, "Are you gonna finish that?"

Bodyguard looked puzzled when he asked the Medic, "What is the matter?"

Medic tried to find an answer.

Scout whispered to Spy, "I've got an idea."

He stood up from his chair and said to Bodyguard, "You know, Nazir, we're feelin' kinda bad right now."

"Why is that?"

"You shouldn't be cooking for us. We should be serving food for _you_. You've done a heck of a good job in the battlefield. We should be the ones giving you rewards, not the other way around."

Spy caught on with the Bostonian's antics. "He is right, Nazir. You shouldn't be going through all this trouble trying to remind us of your loyalty and acceptance. You have already proven yourself in the battlefield. It is time for us to award you for your hard work."

Bodyguard seemed to have approved of the friendly gesture. "That is very nice of you, but-"

Femme Fatale interrupted him, "Oh, don't try to give poor excuses. We already know how important you are to this team. We are very thankful of your service."

Weatherman followed, "So much so that we've decided to take you out for dinner tonight. But don't think that your cooking was all for nothing. We'll just have your entrees as tomorrow's leftovers."

Bodyguard shrugged his shoulders. "I just can't believe you would do something like this."

Scout laughed. "Hey, what are pals for?"

"Well, where will you take me?"

"I know a restaurant several miles from here. It's an American franchise, but the food's delicious."

"Do they taste like _my_ food?"

"…A little better than that."

* * *

The RED mercenaries regained the joys of casual conversations as they ate hamburgers, French fries, and chicken nuggets. Bodyguard didn't think that an actual McDonald's existed a few miles away from the RED base. He watched as his teammates consumed anything that was edible, from Quarter Pounders with Cheese to Chicken McNuggets with Sweet & Sour Sauce. Other visitors in the dining room didn't seem to mind the fifteen individuals who looked like crazed combatants.

Bodyguard asked Demoman, "Do you really think that food from this restaurant tastes as good as my own?"

Demoman smiled as he took a sip of Coke. "I wouldn't say that it's as good as yours."

Meanwhile, at the other side of the dining room, Heavy asked Medic, "What shall we do about leftovers?"

Scout answered that. "Don't worry about it. Before we left, Jason and Yvonne and I did a little cleaning up in the cafeteria."

And by that, he meant that they had placed all of Bodyguard's entrees in a box and mailed it to Antarctica, where no one would ever find it again. Except maybe the penguins.

* * *

Coming up next:

My Dear Isabella


	24. SS - My Dear Isabella

SOLO STORY

My Dear Isabella

* * *

When Sniper turned on the radio inside the locker room, he couldn't turn it off. He sat back and relaxed while listening to "Taking a Chance on Love," by Helen Forrest and the Benny Goodman Orchestra. It was an old love song from the 1940's. He had heard it before, and hearing it now brought back some fine memories from awhile back. He closed his eyes and tapped his foot in tune with the rhythm. When he heard distant footsteps, he opened his eyes and saw Outlaw arriving from the entrance. He took slower steps when he gazed at the radio.

Sniper asked, "Do you know this song?"

Outlaw just nodded. He opened his locker and placed his lighter inside it.

Sniper continued listening to the radio. "It's one of my favorites."

Outlaw closed his locker. "It's one of my own as well."

"They played this song when you still lived in Argentina?"

"Yes, they did. It used to be a love song for me and my woman."

"Ah, what's her name?"

"Isabella. She's dead now."

"I'm sorry to hear that, mate."

The song ended, and Sniper turned off the radio. "Who was she? I mean, was she a farmer or a politician's daughter?"

Outlaw let out a little sigh. "I don't feel like talking about her right now."

Sniper knew that he had to back off a little. "I can respect your privacy."

Outlaw left the locker room in silence.

* * *

A few hours later, the sun began to descend towards the western horizon. The sky had given itself a light orange hue. The clouds disappeared several minutes ago, resulting in a clear and calm sunset. Outlaw spent the remaining hours of the afternoon playing various tunes on his acoustic guitar. He sat on a large boulder on a corner in RED territory. He was alone. At this point, he played a slow traditional ballad that originated from Venezuela.

He stopped playing when he noticed Femme Fatale walking towards him.

He said, "Hello, Victoria."

"Hello, Miguel."

"What brings you here?"

"The Scout is singing and playing Engineer's guitar to his girlfriend again."

"And he still sounds terrible?"

"You are correct."

Outlaw grunted. "I thought my giving him music lessons would pay off."

"At least the lessons were free. Anyway, I have been hearing you play your own guitar, and I knew that I would rediscover tranquility on this very spot. I don't have to listen to Scout's unforgivable melodies when I watch the sun disappear."

She sat down beside Outlaw. Fortunately, this didn't give the man any discomfort. He asked, "Do you enjoy watching sunsets?"

"Yes, I do. As an admirer of Mother Nature, I take pleasure in relaxation with the use of visual splendor."

"I used to do that when I was very young."

Outlaw played the first few notes of a different South American ballad. Femme Fatale stayed silent as she looked up to the clear sky. The sun had just touched the horizon and now began to undergo a smooth transition into nighttime.

Suddenly, Outlaw stopped playing the previous composition. Instead, he played the same song that had been heard on Sniper's radio: Taking a Chance on Love. He played the main melody for several seconds.

Femme Fatale commented, "That does not sound like it originated from South America."

"You are correct. It's a North American love song from 25 years ago. I first heard it when I turned 19, when my woman and I expressed our love for the first time."

"What was her name?"

"Isabella."

"She must have been a wonderful woman."

"Actually, she used to sell weapons and ammunition to various rebels all over South America. It doesn't sound like a wonderful occupation, does it?"

"It sounds like she had no other option."

"It's a bit more complicated than that."

"It seems a little strange that she used to sell artillery at a young age."

"Actually, she was 38 years old at the time."

"Oh, you really _are_ quite the charmer."

Outlaw briefly gave a little smile. "Thank you."

"Was she also from Mendoza?"

Outlaw took a few seconds to answer that question. "…From Buenos Aires, actually."

"Is she still alive?"

Outlaw shifted in his seat. "She died a long time ago."

Femme Fatale's tone turned solemn. "I'm sorry. Am I offending you?"

Outlaw took a deep breath. "No, you're not. It's just that I sometimes have trouble talking about her."

"If it is making you uncomfortable, I will stay silent about it."

"No, it's just…I don't know."

Outlaw placed his guitar on his lap.

Femme Fatale asked, "Do you truly want to talk about this?"

"Yes, I do…But I struggle to."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I shall be honest with you. I haven't talked about Isabella for quite some time. The last time I talked about her was with a few of our teammates when my ammunition had first arrived. I talked about her, and how she had become the love of my life. But again, it led to me talking about her last days on this earth."

"What do you mean 'again'?"

Outlaw stared at her and noticed a little gleam in her eyes. "You see, she died a horrific death. She had been raped and murdered, and I saw it all. The last image of her had been a grisly one, and it has been permanently imprinted in my recollection of life. Every time I try to talk about her to new friends, the image of her unfortunate death keeps returning. Her death is all that I can discuss."

"I can only imagine how hard it is to try to push away such a dreadful image."

Outlaw sighed. "It's almost as if I'm doing Isabella a disservice. She was such a magnificent woman, and yet none of her accomplishments are recognized."

Femme Fatale turned her head to see the sun vanishing into the other side of the earth. The sky's luminosity faded in favor of a dimmer manifestation.

"How many times did you talk about her?"

Outlaw replied, "Only a few."

"And you did not really discuss much about her?"

"That's true. If I mentioned her occupation, then there would be automatic suspicions surrounding both her and me."

"Did you mind if I helped you talk about her…besides her death?"

"It doesn't hurt to try."

"I shall ask you a few questions about her."

Outlaw straightened up as Femme Fatale asked, "When was she born?"

"June 17th, 1905."

"What were her hobbies?"

"She always enjoyed dancing and riding bicycles through natural trails."

"What were her favorite musical genres?"

"She always preferred opera, mostly Italian. She also admired folk songs from our home country."

"Did she love you very much?"

"…Yes. Yes, she did."

For the next several minutes, Outlaw described the more positive aspects about his past lover. It seemed that his more miserable recollections of her had stayed away. The familiar sense of comfort returned. In the end, he felt enlightened once again.

He almost laughed. "I must be stupid. It took me this long to remove a huge fraction of my troubles."

Femme Fatale remarked, "You are not stupid, Miguel. You just needed a good friend to help you."

"And why did you want to help me?"

"Because I do not like seeing my friends feel miserable."

"It's good to have a friend like you."

"It is also because you have become a fascinating person to me. I want to know more about your adventures in South America."

"Am I very interesting?"

"Yes, you are."

Outlaw plucked a few strings on the guitar. "I shall tell you about my adventures later. But now, I have an urge to perform a classic Argentinian melody."

"I would like to hear it."

Outlaw played on while Femme Fatale stayed silent and listened. She watched him perform on the guitar as the first hour of night soon arrived.

* * *

Coming up next:

Meet Mr. Ingram


	25. SS - Meet Mr Ingram

Note: It looks like I've found a use for Mr. Ingram after all.

* * *

SHORT STORY

Meet Mr. Ingram

* * *

The Administrator took her last sip of tea in the Control Room. She gazed at the huge computer screen in front of her and watched as both BLU and RED mercenaries finished yet another hard-fought battle with a stalemate. Exhausted, every one of them returned to their barracks and prepared to have some dinner. She turned off the computer screen.

At first, the Administrator felt a little skeptical about her new recruits, but when they adapted into their new environments, she knew that they fit in. The original nine mercenaries had already made friends with the six newcomers, especially the Hollywood siblings. Sometimes she was annoyed by the constant yearning for fame and fortune. Other times she felt amused. Seeing as how Rocketeer and Assassin had once worked in a very small film studio (owned by their Mongolian parents), it became clear that none of the mercenaries would obtain celebrity status in Southern California. Outlaw and Weatherman fared just as good. Pyro, Demoman, Engineer and Sniper seemed to be pretty fond of them. Knowing that Outlaw specialized in explosive artillery and Weatherman had a fascination of building things, they seemed to have gotten along quite well. The Administrator already knew that Bodyguard would be admired by his teammates, yet she had recently discovered the truth about his notorious cooking skills and creativeness. It was a good thing that the four chefs that she hired for the new cafeteria had arrived, even if they were one day late because of the bad driving directions that they received. Finally, Administrator thought of her Sri Lankan pupil. She took a huge risk when she sent Victoria into Mann territory, but she could see now that the Femme Fatale took her time to accept new responsibilities. Administrator felt relieved that Femme Fatale appeared to be happy with her new friends.

The telephone rang in the Control Room. Administrator picked it up and heard a familiar voice from the receiver. It was her Messenger. He explained that he had received a letter from an unknown individual. Administrator told him to open it and read it. As soon as he opened the envelope, the Messenger read the letter,

"_Dear Helen, it looks like I have finally caught up with you. I want to have a meeting at seven o'clock, at Giuseppe's restaurant. You will recognize me, I can assure you._

_Sincerely, Mr. Ingram_."

Administrator knew that name. She said 'thank you' to her Messenger and hung up the phone. She didn't have to feel suspicious about her Messenger. The letter was not a phony. She already knew about this fellow named Mr. Ingram. In fact, she was the only one in all of TF Industries who knew about him. She left the Control Room and prepared to visit Giuseppe's in one hour.

* * *

She had visited Giuseppe's restaurant three times now. It was an Italian restaurant made exclusively for some of the wealthiest people in the general area. When she led herself inside, she asked the desk clerk if a Mr. Ingram was here. The desk clerk replied that the man has indeed made a reservation and that he is now waiting for his other companion. The host led Administrator to his table.

Administrator already recognized the man from a far distance. Ingram smiled at her once he looked up from the menu. Two personal bodyguards in business suits stood between him. Born and raised in the United States, the man hadn't really changed the last time she saw him. He was now in his early 40's, much younger than she was. He looked slim and wore a casual business suit. He had short hair and was clean-shaven. Administrator felt impressed with his appearance.

When she sat down at his table, Mr. Ingram said, "Hello, Helen."

Administrator gave a little smile. "Nathaniel Ingram…I never expected to see you again."

"You heard about my failed assassination, didn't you?"

Administrator didn't feel like laughing at his little joke. She never expected to have a meeting with this man. She knew how powerful he had become.

She asked, "So how is your organization?"

His tone of voice remained calm and patient. "I'm having such a fun time with our most recent expansion."

"I congratulate you for achieving success."

"You congratulate me, but deep inside, you still resent me."

That was the truth. Both the Administrator and Ingram were once business associates at least twenty years ago. But then, he decided to create a business of his own. This led to mounting tensions between the two. In the end, they ended their friendship and Ingram left to pursue his own dreams. Now, the Administrator learned of his industrial triumph. He had become one of the most powerful businessmen in all of the United States. His power equaled to that of her own.

Administrator replied, "I can see now you are clairvoyant."

"I didn't have to research telepathy for that. I just had to see it in your eyes."

They read through their menus in silence. When the server asked what they want, Ingram ordered Chicken Parmesan with Ravioli. Administrator ordered Lamb Lasagna with salad on the side. The server left them alone.

Ingram asked, "So how are you holding up, Helen?"

"You ask that as if I am struggling financially. Your lack of knowledge quite amuses me, actually."

Ingram stayed calm as he smiled and said, "It was just a simple question."

"In that case, I have had my fair share of success."

"With the Mann brothers, I see."

Administrator grew curious. "How do you know about them?"

"I've done my research."

She smiled. "Time well spent."

They discussed more personal matters before and after the food had been served. Ingram talked about his organization: a private company that specialized in scientific progression, including medicine and geology. He married a wonderful man when he and Administrator still worked together, but after their separation, he and his wife had two children. Both have just graduated from high school. Administrator, on the other hand, didn't have time to devote herself to family affairs. She always spent her time working. She mentioned that she only had one hour of free time every single year. She spent those hours feeding pigeons and watching them fight over bread crumbs.

"That sounds depressing."

"But I do enjoy confrontations."

Halfway through their meal, Administrator's curiosity rose at its highest peak. She jabbed at her half-eaten lasagna with her fork when she said, "You're a smart man, Nathaniel."

"Isn't it obvious?"

"I know what you're up to. You invite me to a scrumptious dinner and you wait until it is the right time to propose a deal."

"Memories never fade."

This tactic had been common practice in the business world. Both Ingram and Administrator had used it when they still worked together. And now, Ingram used this tactic against Administrator.

Administrator lit a cigarette. "What is it you want? Money? Weapons?"

"No, I want something much more than that."

"And what would that be?"

Ingram took a slow sip of his wine and placed the glass back on the table. He gave a piercing stare at his new rival. "I want to buy TF Industries."

Administrator didn't feel surprised, but rather felt displeased. "Do you, now?"

"I don't want just ammunition or electronic devices. I want the _entire _company."

"… I see. But why?"

"It has everything that I need. You see, I am currently running operations in South America and South Asia."

"I had the feeling that you wanted it for the Vietnam War."

"Vietnam is Washington's problem."

"What sort of operations are you running?"

Ingram lowered his voice. "They are _top secret_. I will, however, tell you that they require lots of military equipment. That's when I set my gaze on TF Industries. This is exactly what I want."

"I thought your company specialized in science."

"It does…but it also requires plenty of artillery."

"What is the price?"

"500 million dollars."

Administrator almost laughed. "I don't think the Mann brothers would approve of that."

"I already know that Blutarch and Redmond no longer have the power to run RED and BLU. It is now _your_ decision. Think of it, Helen. I know that you have the power over every single division of TF Industries. I know that Blutarch and Redmond no longer have control over their companies, and yet they still fight for inheritance. And I know how they're still alive because of Mr. Conaugher's secret invention. So I'm leaving both brothers out of the equation."

Administrator exhaled a slow puff of smoke. "How very thoughtful of you to research everything there is to know about my company. But unfortunately, it's all for nothing. I cannot take your money."

Ingram kept calm. "But our operations in foreign countries can be important not only for me, but for you and the rest of the world. We're trying to excel in science. We're trying to make the world a better place."

"How is it that you want to make the world a better place when you're keeping it as a secret?"

"It's _our_ business, Helen."

"I still say no."

Ingram began rubbing his fingers against his glass of wine. "I knew you would say that. You're such a powerful and strong-minded individual."

"Thank you."

"But I still see your company as an undeniable opportunity for authentic expansion."

"Please don't tell me that you're declaring war on TF Industries."

"I am not. I'm not that stupid."

Ingram took a sip of wine before he said, "Before you know it, I will have complete control over your company. I have friends from all over the world: CEO's from Chicago, San Francisco, Montreal, London, Stockholm, Milan, etc. They will help me get what I want."

"You're so keen on achieving the unthinkable."

"There _is_ another way. I will publicize this war between the Mann brothers. I will spread the news with CBS, NBC, ABC, and even BBC. I will let the power of liberal media decide your fate. Plus, I will take away your fifteen mercenaries…with unique techniques. And I will reveal private information regarding the adventures of your little Sri Lankan apprentice."

Administrator slowly pushed her plate away. "I didn't think that you would know about Victoria."

"Like I said, I've done my research…and what I've found about her was pretty fascinating."

"So you're attempting to destroy my reputation with the use of _blackmail_."

"There are other ways I can do this, Helen. But in the end, you will know that I will conquer your precious little company."

Administrator squished her cigarette on the ashtray. "I never thought you would become so arrogant. You assume that I've turned helpless. Poor Nathaniel, you are _wrong_. I am still as powerful as you, if not more. I have friends from the other side as well, and they're just as authoritative as yours. Persuade me all you want, but I will _never_ let you take TF Industries."

"So it's a no?"

"It's an obvious answer."

Ingram gave a smile, a very iniquitous smile. "You've just made the poorest decision in your life."

Administrator narrowed her eyes. "Prove it."

They were alone in the corner. The closest diner was at least twenty feet away. Helen Walsh and Nathaniel Ingram had no fear in saying what had to be said.

"So Helen, you want another private war?"

"I shall be waiting for it."

Ingram's voice turned into a whisper. "Thank you for ignoring my warnings… because I'm really going to have some fun with this."

* * *

Coming up next:

I Thought it was Treasure


	26. New Missions & New Maps

Note: A spelling error occurred in the last chapter. Let me clarify. Nathaniel Ingram married a WOMAN and had two children. I should proofread more often.

Also, on Saturday, I'm going to change my username. Instead of Wagner's Apprentice, my name will be changed to 100yearoldWhiskey, which is my YouTube username.

* * *

New Missions & New Maps

NEW MISSIONS

-Competition

This is a race to victory. Both RED and BLU teams obtain a large battery the size of a chair. The battery must be placed inside an enormous RED/BLU missile. The missile is the end of the path for both teams. Whoever sends the battery into the missile first wins the round. The battery must be picked up by one mercenary. The weight of the battery causes the mercenary to sprint much slower (Heavy's speed, to be exact). Both teams must do two things: protect their teammate that has the battery, and attack their enemies that try to stop the teammate from reaching the missile. If the teammate with the battery dies, then another teammate must carry it and move along.

_Maps_:

Coliseum = gigantic stadium (with a loud and energetic audience) with obstacle courses

Skyscraper = the top floors of a tall skyscraper that is still in the middle of construction. Both teams run from the bottom floor to the top floor, where the missiles are located.

Oasis = a vast oasis in the middle of the Saudi Arabian desert

Pacific = a large array of islands (filled with hills, pine trees, and shallow water) in the middle of the Pacific Ocean

Arctic = caves that are made entirely of ice, with a freezing underground lake with large chunks of ice (for platforming)

Junction = a large area with trains, cargo, and railroad tracks

* * *

-Last Stand

The RED Team is hopeless against an entire horde of robots (Mann vs. Machine). The robots are about to overwhelm them, and all they have left are each other. It's time to end it all on a high note. The RED Team will fight to the death against their metallic enemies. But the true purpose of this game mode is to see which lone mercenary will stay alive the longest. Each map can hold a maximum of 16 players for RED.

_Maps_:

Citadel = large medieval fortress in China

Chicago = 1960's Chicago in ruins, with every skyscraper damaged by gunfire and explosions

Farmhouse = large farmhouse in the middle of a Texas cattle farm (with real cows)

Amazon = a village in the middle the Amazon Rainforest, filled with huts and wooden fences

Coliseum = the same one for Competition mode, with obstacle courses

* * *

NEW MAPS

(Balloon Race) Desert Canyon

This "Balloon Race" takes place in a massive ravine with a river in the bottom. There are four control points situated on tall colossal mesas lying on top of the river.

(Control Point/King of the Hill/Arena) Titanic

In the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, the still-intact Titanic becomes a map for these three game modes. The entire upper deck is used for control points. The interior of the ship isn't used, though the restaurants and lounges on the upper deck are open.

(Control Point) Nightmare

This game mode takes place in a devilish wasteland filled with rivers of lava and smoke in the sky. Set in a valley, the control points are on top of boulders that are surrounded by pools of lava. Players have to run on top of wooden bridges to get to the control points.

(Attack & Defend/Arena/King of the Hill) Bathhouse

This game mode takes place inside a luxurious Bathhouse (presumably in Ancient Babylon or Ancient Egypt). The entire map is an interior; there are no outside locations. Players are surrounded by pools and fountains in different shapes and sizes. Bright reflections from the pools and fountains illuminate every single room.

(Payload Race) Hollywood

This should be familiar territory for Rocketeer and Assassin. This "Payload Race" takes place in a major film studio in Hollywood, filled with lots and sets and props. Some might wonder if this studio is actually for Universal Pictures or Paramount Pictures.

(Balloon Race) Rockies

This "Balloon Race" takes place in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. The entire place is filled with snow and jagged mountaintops. The control points are situated on steep cliffs.

(King of the Hill) Sahara

This one takes place in an enormous oasis in the middle of the Sahara Desert, filled with ponds and pine trees.


	27. SS - I Thought it was Treasure

SHORT STORY

I Thought it was Treasure

* * *

When they finished eating dinner, the six new recruits spent their time eating their desserts. Even if they were the only ones left in the dining room, they ate their own slices of pumpkin pie in a very calm manner. They sat together at one of the larger tables in the dining room. It wasn't because they felt bored on a Tuesday night. It was because of their silent anticipation. They would finally have the chance to discover what remained hidden in the RED treasure chest. Since their first arrival, they noticed a pile of strange treasure chests (which looked like they belonged to 18th Century swashbucklers) that stood in a corner in the warehouse. When the recruits asked the Heavy about it, he just replied that the enclosed containers held very sacred items. And that was when the recruits grew fascinated with what had been hidden inside the treasure chests. They kept asking about it, and then just one day ago, Soldier told them that their time had come to see what lay inside the chests. Since all six of them had adapted into their new environments and had gained improvements on the battlefield, they now had the chance to see what all the fuss was about.

Back in the dining room, they ate their slices of pumpkin pie in silence. Outlaw asked, "Is anyone nervous?"

Bodyguard replied, "Not at all. I just can't wait to get this over with. I have a feeling that I'll be disappointed."

Assassin felt the exact opposite. "I don't think so. Maybe there's money in those chests."

Rocketeer added, "If that's true, then we'll finally have enough money to pay back our parents."

Femme Fatale wiped her lips with her napkin when she ate the last piece of her pie. "I doubt that it is money. Perhaps it is something silly that our teammates collect. In fact, the chests themselves did appear quite silly."

Weatherman shrugged his shoulders. "We'll just have to see for ourselves what's so special about them."

The Soldier arrived from the main entrance and, with a solemn look on his face, asked them, "Are you ready?"

Assassin asked him, "Can't you even give us a hint?"

Soldier shook his head. "Small details are forbidden. Now let's go. Here is your chance."

They left the dining room, leaving their plates alone on the table. Outside, Demoman and Engineer joined them. The six recruits followed the three RED mercenaries into the warehouse. All of the lights were turned on. The mercenaries reached the stack of treasure chests. Demoman and Engineer chose one and pulled it away from the pile.

Soldier proclaimed to the recruits, "Since the past three months, all of you have done us proud. You've worked hard to get to where the rest of us are. And now you deserve something in return."

Outlaw asked, "And what would that be?"

"These are prized possessions, Miguel. Why don't you do the honors by opening it?"

Soldier, Demoman, and Engineer walked away from the lone chest.

Outlaw sounded annoyed when he asked, "This chest doesn't contain wild animals, am I correct?"

"You'll never know if you don't open it first."

Outlaw took a deep breath and unlocked the chest. He lifted up the top and took a peek inside. His curiosity immediately transformed into mild confusion. He threw the top wide open and observed the items in the chest. He picked up a Viking helmet and a sailor's cap. He showed them to the other recruits.

Weatherman didn't look amazed. "You can't be serious."

Engineer replied, "Oh, we _are_, Shane. We're very serious."

Assassin looked down at the open chest. "So this is what you say is sacred?"

Demoman nodded. "Aye, these are some of the things that we cherish the most."

Rocketeer scratched his head. "Come to think of it, I've heard about these hats. I kept hearing that they're truly one-of-a-kind. And from the looks of it…they look nice."

Engineer smiled. "You're free to take whichever you want, and however many you want."

Rocketeer and Assassin already looked through the pile of hats to find their favorite one.

Femme Fatale didn't seem too pleased with this current situation. She folded her arms across her chest and said, "It would be logical to find money hidden in these chests, but I never expected such trivial merchandise."

Demoman pointed his finger at her. "Be careful what you say, lass. The items in these chests are quite popular around here."

Femme Fatale just watched as Rocketeer and Assassin picked their hats and wore them. They stood in front of mirrors attached to the wall and tried to see if they looked good with their new possessions.

Femme Fatale remarked, "The two of you look as if you have just found the Holy Grail."

Outlaw inspected the Viking helmet that he had recently picked up. "It may not be money…but it might feel comfortable on my head."

"Oh, Miguel. Not you, too."

Outlaw placed the Viking helmet on his head and smiled. "It fits."

Assassin shared his enthusiasm as she pointed at the hat on top of her. "I think I like _this_ one."

Weatherman joined in on the fun. "I think I want a pirate hat."

Just as Bodyguard started to walk toward the chest, Femme Fatale grabbed his arm and asked, "Don't you find this a little absurd, Nazir?"

Bodyguard looked at Soldier, and then back at Femme Fatale. "I'm no fool, Victoria. I'd be out of a job."

Bodyguard picked up a hat for himself. He and the rest of the recruits enjoyed themselves while choosing their hats. Femme Fatale was the only one who stayed put.

She uttered, "If these items are considered sacred, then we have discovered a higher level of irrationality."

Soldier's voice grew hoarse. "You're entering dangerous territory, Victoria."

Femme Fatale replied, "It is almost as if a disconnection from reality is a common display."

Engineer coughed. "Be _careful_."

Femme Fatale picked up one of the hats from the chest and showed it to Soldier, Demoman, and Engineer. "It is just a hat, men. It is nothing but a stupid hat!"

She threw it on the ground, and it broke in half. Rocketeer, Assassin, Outlaw, Weatherman, and Bodyguard froze and almost gasped. Soldier, Demoman, and Engineer didn't lose their composure when the hat broke.

Engineer did say, "Looks like we got ourselves an outsider."

Femme Fatale asked, "What are you going to do about it? Are you going to put me in a box and mail me to Iceland?"

"Nah, that doesn't sound very fun."

She didn't feel nervous. "Do remember that I am still on your side."

"Yeah, yeah, we know that. You don't have to remind us."

Soldier took a few steps toward her as he said, "I know the perfect punishment."

Femme Fatale narrowed her eyes. "Then tell me what it is."

* * *

_I will not underestimate the importance of hats._

_I will not underestimate the importance of hats._

_I will not underestimate the importance-_

Femme Fatale whispered to herself, "This is ridiculous."

She stood in front of a large chalkboard. With a piece of chalk in her hand, she wrote down the exact same sentence over and over. Soldier, Demoman, and Engineer watched her from a few feet away.

Engineer whispered to Soldier, "Don't you think it's time to tell her that wearing hats is _optional_?"

Soldier whispered back, "Not yet. We're still having some fun with this 'sacred' stuff. Just wait until we get to the crates."

* * *

Coming up next:

Sniper's Halloween Tale


	28. SS - Sniper's Halloween Tale

Note: The story that Sniper tells in this chapter is made by me. I was inspired by classical music when I thought of it. Compositions include _Polymorphia_ and _Fluorescences for Orchestra_ by Krzysztof Penderecki. I was also inspired by the song _The Memory Remains_ by Metallica. I'm sure you can find these on YouTube.

* * *

SHORT STORY

Sniper's Halloween Tale

* * *

"…and there they were! They revealed their vicious teeth and horrendous claws. They lunged at the poor helpless Americans! The humans begged for mercy, but the Communist Chipmunks have never heard of mercy!"

"Can you please shut up?!"

Sniper couldn't listen to Soldier's ghost story any longer.

Soldier asked, "What's the matter? Don't you want to get to the scary part?"

Weatherman remarked, "You've told us this story fourteen times now!"

"But this story is important. Actually, it's more of a warning."

Sniper blurted, "We don't want to hear it anymore, mate! Communist Chipmunks are _not_ scary. We want to hear a different story."

Soldier sat back down, whispering something under his breath.

He calmed his nerves as Sniper, Scout, Assassin, Demoman, Heavy, Weatherman, and Medic sat around the campfire. The mercenaries were right outside of their own Badlands territory. This had become their day off. Night approached with the majestic view of the full moon, with its luminosity mixing well with the campfire. The desert wasteland was engulfed with natural silence.

Weatherman poked on of the burning woods with a stick. "Does anyone else have a scary story to tell?"

Demoman replied, "I can't think of one."

Heavy and Scout already told their own scary stories, though they didn't seem to frighten the others at all. Stories involving haunted post offices and the curse of TV dinners couldn't give any scares.

Scout chuckled. "Come on, guys. It's Halloween. Somebody's got to have another scary story, or a ghost story, or a zombie story…or something."

Medic added, "I can tell you ze one about Nazir's cursed Steamed Clams."

Demoman shook his head. "I don't think we're ready for _that_."

Assassin asked, "Hey, Sniper, how about you? Do you have a scary story of your own?"

Sniper stared at the fire. "I used to have one. I remember writing it on pieces of paper when I was 21 years old. Actually, I think I can remember the whole thing."

Scout asked, "Why don't you tell us about it?"

Weatherman added, "Yeah, tell us your own story. Does it have anything to do with ghosts or beasts from the lagoon?"

Sniper shifted in his seat. "No, it's all about a young boy with something bad happening to him when he grows up."

Heavy grunted. "That is not scary."

"It could be."

Soldier asked, "Why don't you just tell us, Howard? We'll see if it scares us to death."

"Okay, then."

Everyone straightened up as Sniper began his tale.

"It all started twenty-five years ago. There was this young boy named Theodore. We'll say that he used to live in the United States, in a small town in Wisconsin or Indiana or whatever. There, he and his friends discovered an American myth. They are informed about Iris, the elderly Oracle who lived in a solitary house that was situated right outside of the town's boundaries. The story of Iris didn't turn out to be a pleasant one. Theodore and his friends learn about her whereabouts and her horrific psychic abilities. It is said that those who encounter the old woman are instantly caught in her spell. She makes them do horrible things, and _they _are the ones who are responsible for their own actions, not her."

Scout commented, "You're doin' good so far."

"Thanks, mate. Anyway, Theodore and his friends remained fascinated. The allure reached its peak when, one night, they decided to visit this farmhouse. In the middle of the night, they pretended to fall asleep. When their parents dozed off in their beds, the boys opened their windows and left their homes on their bicycles. The four of them gathered near the woods where the Oracle's dwelling is said to have been located. They began to play a little game of Double Dare. Theodore's friends dared him to visit the Oracle's home and see if she awakes when he knocks on her door. At first, Theodore didn't want to be a part of this little game. But his friends started to call him a weakling and a bed-wetter. Calling him various and negative names seemed to have done the trick. He told them that he _will_ visit the Oracle, and will prove to the others that he will not be put under her spell (if there ever _was_ such a spell to begin with).

"He entered the woods alone. He used his flashlight to see where the house would be. It took him at least fifteen minutes to find it. It appeared to be an old two-story house with outdated wooden walls and cracked windows. Green mold grew on the rooftop. Theodore took a deep breath before he knocked on the door three times. By the third knock, the door slowly opened by itself. Theodore just stood frozen on the porch as he looked straight into the darkness inside. He wanted to run away. He wanted to return to his friends and admit that he was a weakling. But something from inside the house caught his attention. He could hear a woman humming a strange tune. It sounded almost alien, but the melody was also quite compelling to listen to. The tune made Theodore take his first steps into the darkened abode. He tried to hear where the humming woman came from. It came from upstairs. He could feel his fingers shivering as he held his flashlight firmly in his grasp. With caution, he tried hard not to make a noise as he walked up the stairs. The increasing volume of the strange tune meant that Theodore approached ever closer to his intended destination. He made it to the second floor. He could now hear the melody from behind a closed door. He thought of what he should do. He had two choices: run away or open the door. He could easily run off and never mention the Oracle ever again. But the melody sounded so ethereal and so mystical that he couldn't resist. He turned off his flashlight. He walked up to the closed door and he placed his ear against it to see if he could hear anything else other than the woman humming the intriguing tune. He could hear soft clicking noises in the midst of melody. Theodore took deeper breaths when goose bumps formed on his skin. The musical allure had caught up to him. He turned the knob slowly and opened the door. He looked inside and saw an empty bedroom…with one exception.

"There was someone sitting in a chair with her back turned away from the doorway. The clicking noises grew more audible. Theodore found a light switch near the doorway and turned it on. The one light bulb attached to the ceiling brightened the entire room. He could now see that a woman with white ruffled hair sat with her back turned. The humming and the clicking didn't stop. Theodore walked around her to get a good look at her face. To his shock, he didn't expect to see such an appalling sight. You see, the woman sat in front of a window. Theodore assumed that she was looking at something outside. But in actuality, she didn't look outside because she didn't have the ability to. Both of her eyes were sewn shut with wires. Theodore felt even more surprised when he saw her knitting a piece of quilt with two long needles and a ball of yawn. The quilt didn't look very clean and even, however. But she did all of this without even using her eyes.

"Theodore found himself speechless. He had found Iris the old Oracle. She wore a black dress, and she still hummed the same tune. Theodore thought about just leaving her alone. But then, the humming stopped. Theodore stood frozen. He didn't know what to do.

"And then, Iris started to speak. With a very elderly tone of voice, she asked him why he was here. Theodore could do nothing but tell the truth, that his friends dared him to visit her. She said,

"_No, that is not why you're here_. _You are here because you want to see the future_.

"Theodore was about to say 'no', but Iris quickly grabbed his arm. At that exact moment, Theodore began to see instant flashes of different images. He was fixated at what he saw with his own eyes. They looked to have been something that belonged to his future. And they didn't look very pleasant. When Iris let go of his arm, he had to move away from her. He asked if these images had been about his life.

"_They represent your future_.

"She continued knitting and hummed the very same tune. She didn't say another word. She just left him alone. Theodore couldn't really say anything after that. He just walked away in silence. Just as he was about to walk past the doorway, he caught a glimpse of the same light switch that he turned on. He turned to look at the Oracle. If she couldn't use her eyes, then what was the point of keeping the light on? He flicked the switch and the room was engulfed in darkness again."

Assassin asked, "What did Theodore see?"

Sniper gave a very diabolical smile. "Like what the Oracle said, he saw the future. And it didn't turn out to be a pleasant one. These images appeared to be very ghastly and absolutely horrifying. There was blood and fire everywhere. As a young boy, Theodore felt terrified. When he left the woods and met up with his friends again, he couldn't say anything about his future. He just said that he found a lone house in the middle of the woods and the door was locked. All of them returned home and went back to bed."

Heavy asked, "What happened next?"

"I'm getting to that, Boris. Anyway, for the next several days, Theodore couldn't help but think about the images of his future. They grew to become a devastating effect on his psyche as years went on. When he grew older, Theodore stopped talking to his friends and his parents. He no longer rode his bicycle. He just kept silent. The images of his future may have scarred him for life. But when he became a teenager, he started to doubt his future. You see, he wanted to become a police officer when he grew up. But what Iris had showed him caused him to isolate himself. He became a shy individual during Junior High and High School, which attracted bullies as a result. They beat him and teased him with no end in sight. This made things even worse, because Theodore couldn't handle the future."

Weatherman remarked, "You mentioned something about blood and fire. Does this mean that he would die a horrific death and be sent to Hell?"

"It's an indication that his life won't go anywhere. Iris has shown him that his existence on Earth will lack special purpose. He won't be able to achieve success because he will eventually become an insignificant individual…or at least that was what Iris told Theodore."

Scout asked, "You mean she lied?"

"Maybe she did, maybe she didn't. But Theodore believed her because he certainly didn't find any success later in his life. He lived in a crummy apartment, he had a low-income job, and he had no friends. He had no one to talk to except for his co-workers and his customers. His life had deteriorated for good."

"That sucks."

"Yes, but the torture didn't end there. One day, when he had been fired from his job due to bad business, Theodore completely lost it. He destroyed his apartment in frustration. He thought he could make it like his idols, but instead, he became one of the more useless specks in the planet. He ripped up the wallpaper, he broke the mirrors, and he even ripped open his furniture with a kitchen knife. His rage had gotten a firm hold of him as he lost control of himself. As soon as he stopped himself from damaging even more possessions, he collapsed on the floor and broke into tears. He couldn't handle the pain. He closed his eyes and reflected on his encounter with Iris. He regretted the double dare that his friends bestowed in him. He regretted even knowing about the legend of the Oracle. But then, as soon as he opened his eyes again, there she stood right in front of him. He looked up and saw Iris with both of her eyes still sewn shut. After all these years, she didn't change. She even wore the same black dress that she wore the last time Theodore met her. She began to hum the very same tune as before. Theodore screamed in frustration. He demanded an explanation. He wanted to know why this was happening, why his life got worse and worse every passing year. She didn't have a definitive answer. She told him,

"_You are living a miserable life, I can see_. _You believe that there is no hope left for your ambitions and your lust for an excellent life_. _You shouldn't feel this way_. _You _do _have a special purpose_.

"Theodore wanted to know what his purpose was. Iris knelt down and whispered in his ear,

"_You will do as I command. If you do as I say, then you shall be rewarded_.

"Theodore had no other option but to trust her. He told her that he will do anything, no matter how stupid or embarrassing or dangerous it would be. She told one what to do: visit a nearby liquor store, kill the cashier, and steal the money from the cash register. He didn't say anything else. He just left his apartment and did everything that the Oracle had commanded him to do. He visited the liquor store, killed the cashier with his kitchen knife, and stole the money from the cash register. He went back to his apartment as if nothing unusual ever happened. He went into his bedroom and counted all the money that he stole. This would be his very first duty for the sake of Iris. She gave her next command: she told him to leave the apartment and use a small fraction of the money for a hotel room in a different city. Theodore did what he was told. He drove away in his car. He stopped at the nearest city he could find and stayed at a hotel. There, Iris told him what to do next. For the next few years, Theodore would go on in his own adventure, with Iris controlling his every move. He would steal money from different liquor stores, he would stab a pedestrian to death in the middle of the night, and he would soak houses with gasoline and set it on fire (with entire families still living inside it). He obeyed every one of Iris's commands. The strange thing is, Theodore didn't feel any more pain. He did everything he was told to do because he actually believed that Iris would reward him in the end. He still had a lust for success, and he lost his self-control. He lost his innocence, because he felt that he needed to sacrifice his well being for what he truly wanted in life.

"And it still didn't stop there. A few years later, the authorities pursued him and he managed to escape their surveillance. He became a professional criminal. One night, he met a beautiful woman named Kelly at a bar in Cleveland. They hit it off immediately. What was originally a one-night stand turned out to be something much more. In the morning, he told her about Iris, and how he had become her servant. At first, Kelly didn't want to be involved. But Theodore wanted to show her the Oracle. He wanted her to see the old woman in person, and…it's still a big mystery. But Kelly saw the old woman, and she became her servant as well. Kelly had the same misfortune as Theodore's: she herself didn't make it big, and she ended up with a lousy job and a crummy apartment. And then she found the Oracle. Iris made it clear that Theodore had found a new assistant. He and Kelly went on their own crime spree. They killed pedestrians and set houses on fire. They even visited a hospital and smothered a few patients to death with a measly little pillow. They didn't care about their complete lack of morals. All they cared about was making Iris happy, and they hoped for everlasting rewards for their deeds.

"The threat is expanding. Theodore and Kelly recruited other people. And now, perhaps five dozen individuals are out there in the world, committing various crimes in different countries just because they believe that Iris is giving them a 'special purpose'."

Sniper had finished his Halloween tale. Every one of his teammates went silent. Soldier, Demoman, and Weatherman appeared impressed with his story. Heavy and Medic looked to have mixed feelings about it. But both Scout and Assassin looked absolutely horrified.

Sniper added, "I wrote this story because of my own fears. Ghosts don't scare me. Zombies don't scare me. Even sharks don't scare me. Do you know what frightens me the most? Human nature. Our most barbarian instincts are what frighten me the most. The darkest fantasies are nowhere near as gruesome as our most terrifying glimpses of reality."

Medic replied, "Zat vas a decent story…though a bit boring at times."

Heavy smiled. "You are great storyteller, Sniper."

Weatherman raised a finger. "I have an idea. Why don't you write a script for it?"

Sniper put his hat back on. "I might do that."

Scout cleared his throat. "So…does anyone else have a scary story?"

Soldier almost laughed. "How about the one where you and your girlfriend will stay up all night, all because you try hard not to crap your pants?"

"Hey, I'm not scared."

Assassin whispered in his ear, "Good, because I think we should keep the lights on all night."

* * *

Coming up next:

Mr. Ingram's First Strike


	29. SS - Mr Ingram's First Strike

SHORT STORY

Mr. Ingram's First Strike

* * *

Nathaniel Ingram remained silent in his office. He stood in front of the window and observed the majestic metropolitan vicinity that was Chicago. He was born and raised in a small city in New Hampshire, but since his transition into a more luxurious lifestyle, he pictured his new home as a newfound paradise. He raised his family well, and his business excelled and became one of the most powerful enterprises in the entire planet. He and his friends had owned nearly half of Chicago, and they looked to own more territories for their own gains.

When the phone rang, he walked up to his desk and picked up the handset. He heard the voice of one of his undercover agents.

"_Hello, Mr. Ingram. I have everything that you need_."

"Good work. Meet me in one hour."

Time passed, and one of Ingram's personal bodyguards opened the front door. He led the undercover agent inside the office. As soon as the bodyguard closed the door, the agent sat down in front of Ingram's desk. Ingram told him to reveal the documents. The agent handed him an enclosed manila envelope. Ingram opened it and skimmed through Polaroid photographs, articles, and a copy of Zephaniah Mann's original will.

Ingram smiled. He said, "Thank you. My secretary will hand you your bonus. You can go now."

The agent nodded and left the office. Ingram looked through the documents once more before he left the office and headed straight for home. He brought the documents along with him.

* * *

He rode in a limousine as he left downtown Chicago. During the drive, Ingram stared at the Polaroid photographs that his agent had taken. The photos featured mercenaries from RED and BLU battling against each other. Photos of family members and original abodes had also been photographed. Ingram took a good look at Scout's mother, the DeGroot family, and Weatherman's original residence. This became his first step towards complete domination. First, he wanted to know everything about the Mann brothers and their fight for inheritance. Then, he wanted to know why Helen took control over both RED and BLU. And now, he wanted to delve into the lives of all fifteen mercenaries from the RED side. If he wanted to purchase TF Industries for his private operations in foreign countries, then he would have to do everything to get what he wanted.

The limousine stopped in front of his mansion, which was located in one of Chicago's most affluent communities. He opened the front door and yelled, "Amber, I'm home!"

Amber Ingram, his wife, arrived from the living room and gave him a kiss.

"How was work?"

"It's getting better. I feel like I've got something here."

He carried the manila envelope as he walked up the stairs.

"Call me if you need me. I'll be in my study room."

His study room stood right next to the master bedroom. He opened the door and led himself in. He closed it and locked it. He placed the manila envelope on his desk. He examined the entire room. Every table had articles and folders. Cork boards were hung on all four walls. The boards themselves held Polaroid photos and important manuscripts. His file cabinets had been filled to the brim with documents regarding TF Industries, including Mann Co. and the entire Mann family. Since his discovery of TF Industries, he began to do some painstaking research.

He sat in a chair and read the copy of Zephaniah Mann's will. Aside from skimming through the part about Barnabas Hale, the ancestor of the great Saxton Hale, he carefully read through the section that involved Blutarch and Redmond. It was the same information that he discovered, nothing special. Ingram pulled out an article from the manila envelope and started reading about Gray Mann, the third Mann brother.

There was a knock on the door. Ingram left his desk to unlock the front door. He opened it partially and found Amber on the other side.

She asked, "Am I disturbing you?"

Ingram shook his head. "No, not at all. Come in."

He led her inside, and he didn't bother putting things back in the envelope. His wife already knew about TF Industries.

She took a seat on the desk and lit a cigarette. "So, still no luck with the Administrator?"

"I can't persuade her to sell the company."

"I knew she wouldn't bulge."

"Of course, she won't bulge. She's not stupid. She'll do anything to keep her company intact."

Amber stood up and observed the Polaroid photos that were attached to one of the cork boards. "Are these the mercenaries you've been talking about?"

"Yes, that's right."

She pointed to one of the photos. "Who is this?"

"That's the one they call Miss Pauling. She's doesn't fight. She's actually the Administrator's assistant. She takes care of a lot of things, including background checks. It's interesting. I wouldn't think that such a woman like her would work for Helen. But then again, I'm only judging her by her looks."

"She looks like the kind of person who would work for you."

"I'm going to do some research on her life. If it fits, then I might do a little persuasion. If not, then blackmail would be more appropriate."

The phone rang. Nathaniel picked it up. He heard the voice of another undercover agent on the phone. It was Walter F. Browne.

"_Mr. Ingram, I think there's something you should know_."

"What is it?"

"_I've recently discovered some interesting activities regarding the BLU Team_."

"Let me guess. They built a Level 4 Sentry."

"_God, no! Actually, the BLU mercenaries have built an underground lair under their own terrain. The Administrator is responsible for the construction. I've been able to sneak inside to see what went on down below_."

"And what did you find?"

"_It appears that the Administrator discovered the same thing that you have_."

"…I see."

"_It's a small pool, but it's enough for the Administrator to study it_."

"So she's discovered the same liquid substance. Somehow, I'm not very surprised."

"_There is something else. She hired a biochemist to examine the liquid_."

"What's his name?"

"_Ethan Fortier. He is from France_."

"Do you have photos?"

"_Yes, I do_."

"Bring them to me right now. I'll be staying home all night."

"_I'll be there in thirty minutes_."

Both of them hung up.

Amber asked, "So she's on to you?"

Nathaniel Ingram replied, "I don't think so. She just found the same liquid substance. I don't think she knows about our private operations."

"What do you call it again?"

"We call it Tara-lorium. I don't know if the Administrator has already thought of a different name…though I'm sure Mr. Fortier already has."

"Who is he?"

"He's the biochemist that she hired. I think he knows what he's doing."

Then a little smile formed on Ingram's face. "I wonder if purchasing biochemists is easy."

* * *

When Browne arrived at his mansion, he showed Mr. Ingram the photographs of Ethan Fortier. He also showed photographs of the underground lair.

Mr. Ingram asked, "Do you know where he lives now?"

Browne replied, "So far, Mr. Fortier is staying put in the lair."

"I want you and your associates to bring him to me."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to reason with him…and then I'm going to persuade him to perfect the formula that we've recently discovered."

"Won't the Administrator know about it if he betrays her?"

"There are ways to solve a problem such as this."

* * *

Coming up next:

A Typical Day at Work


	30. A Typical Day at Work (unfinished)

I'm currently working on _Guardians of Tara-lorium_, which is the direct sequel to _Meet the Bodyguard. _It's going to be an adventure story that is in the same veins as _Indiana Jones_, _The Mummy_, and even _DuckTales_. _Guardians of Tara-lorium_ will be separate from _Meet the Reinforcements_, and the first chapter will probably be posted in a week or two.

Also, I've tried to finish this chapter entitled "A Typical Day at Work," but I couldn't find enough humor for the rest of it. I'm a bit more comfortable with more dramatic stories. So I'm leaving this chapter unfinished, and I'm moving on to the next. Down below is the unfinished chapter.

* * *

_The first thing Rocketeer did after waking up was visit the cafeteria. He didn't even bother putting on his customary jumpsuit. He just wore his black pants and sleeveless white undershirt as he entered the dining room. There, he met up with Leonard, one of the four chefs in the kitchen. Leonard was born and raised in Sacramento, California. His elaborate cooking skills impressed the Administrator very much. Rocketeer stood at the counter and ordered some breakfast: scrambled eggs, two pieces of bacon, two pieces of toast, one piece of hash brown, and a cup of orange juice. Leonard gave a nod. He knew what to do. _

_Rocketeer turned around and took a look at the dining room. Outlaw and Sniper sat at one table. Bodyguard sat alone, reading a newspaper. A plate of steamed clams lay on his table. Rocketeer had heard the stories about the steamed clams. Those who have tasted it rarely lived to warn the newest victims. From the looks of it, Bodyguard had cooked it himself and left it alone on the table for his teammates to taste, free of charge. Rocketeer had to be careful. All he had to do was stay silent as he walked right past him. Bodyguard seemed to have immersed himself in the newspaper. Rocketeer breathed a sigh of relief as he walked past him, unscathed. If Bodyguard looked up and asked if he wanted to have a little taste of one of his family recipes, then Rocketeer would have had to spend his paycheck on endless bottles of Pepto-Bismol._

_Medic sat at the table next to Outlaw and Sniper's. The German was eating poached eggs, two pieces of toast, and a large bratwurst. Rocketeer asked him, "Do you mind if I join you?"_

_Medic replied, "Nein, not at all."_

_As Rocketeer waited for his morning meal, he and Medic discussed matters involving their current occupations. Medic asked if Rocketeer found this place to be his new home._

"_I think I'm getting there. I'm getting the hang of what goes on in the battlefield."_

"_And are you still upset about our respawn system?"_

_Rocketeer cleared his throat. "I'm now…uh…fascinated. I didn't think a machine like that existed."_

_Medic whispered, "Remember. That machine is our little secret."_

_Leonard had finished with Rocketeer's order. Rocketeer walked up to the counter and returned to the Medic's table with his complete breakfast._

_Medic took a sip of coffee before he said, "I should remind you about something."_

"_What is it?"_

"_When we run straight into battle again this afternoon, you should try harder to create distractions. For example, let's say that you fly up into ze air. You are right above your enemies. You should land on a rooftop and wait until they start firing at someone else. This means they are concentrating on teammates who are still walking on ze ground. They do not have time to look up in ze sky. So just stay on ze rooftop until ze enemy is distracted. It will be the perfect time to use your weapon and your jetpack."_

"_I'll keep that in mind, though I didn't think you would care enough to solve a problem like this."_

"_I care about everyone."_

_They continued eating their breakfast when Assassin walked in and asked Leonard the chef to make her something. She glanced over her shoulder and stared at Bodyguard's plate of steamed clams. It didn't look very appetizing. She didn't say anything when she finished giving her order and walked right past Bodyguard._

_Bodyguard looked up from his newspaper and said, "Good morning, Yvonne."_

_Assassin stood frozen. She held her breath as Bodyguard asked, "Would you like to try one of my steamed clams?"_

_Medic and Rocketeer sat still and watched to see if the young woman could get away from this ordeal._

_Assassin turned around and replied, "I think I should have some later."_

"_It'll be cold as soon as your finish your meal."_

"_Well…I don't think I should get my germs all over it."_

"_Don't be silly. The Medic knows how to kill germs."_

_Medic giggled under his breath while Rocketeer gave Assassin a little iniquitous grin._

_Assassin tried to fake a smile to Bodyguard as she said, "I don't like steamed clams."_

"_But I've seen you eat one yesterday. If Leonard will impress you, then perhaps it's now time for me to demonstrate my creativity. Have a taste, Yvonne. They're free of charge."_

_Assassin stared at the steamed clams. "Free of charge, huh?"_

_Rocketeer added, "Go on and have a taste, Yvonne. You don't want to hurt Nazir's feelings, do you?"_

_Assassin took a deep breath. "What have I got to lose?"_

_She slowly took a fork from the table and picked up one of the mussels. She tried hard not to smell it. She took the first bite. Almost immediately, a disgusted look formed on her face._

_Bodyguard asked, "Is it to your liking?"_

_Rocketeer tried hard not to laugh when his sister kept chewing the mussel very slowly. When she finally swallowed it, Assassin tried to say, "…It's…it tastes like something that I've never tasted before."_

_Rocketeer asked, "Are you still hungry?"_

"_I think I need a really big bottle of soda before I eat my breakfast."_

_She returned to the counter, still in disgust._

_Meanwhile, Soldier had entered the dining hall and he didn't look like the kind of guy who liked mornings. With a frown on his face, he didn't even say "good morning" to his companions. He just walked up to the counter and called out, "Leonard, come here!"_

_Leonard arrived. "Why do I get the feeling that you're not a morning person?"_

"_Just be quiet and cook me some pork chops with mashed potatoes. And make me a cup of coffee with _lots _of sugar."_

"_Roger that."_

_Soldier left the counter. Bodyguard didn't bother to ask Soldier if he wanted to try his steamed clams._

* * *

That's all for "A Typical Day at Work." Like I said, I couldn't really finish it because I couldn't find enough funny material for the rest of the chapter. So I'm just gonna leave it like this.

* * *

Coming up next:

Brother, Can You Spare an Apology?


	31. SS - Brother, Can You Spare an Apology?

Note: The first chapter for _Guardians of Tara-lorium_ has been posted. Meanwhile, I'll still be posting more chapters for this one.

* * *

SHORT STORY

Brother, Can You Spare an Apology?

* * *

"How long have you been using a bow and arrow?"

"Longer than you think."

Sniper and Femme Fatale stood right outside the warehouse on a Saturday afternoon. A mannequin dressed as a BLU Spy stood at least fifty feet away. The two decided to start a little demonstration of their archery skills. Sniper placed an arrow on his Huntsman bow and aimed for the mannequin's head. He let go of the arrow after charging it. It flew and stuck on the mannequin's forehead.

Femme Fatale smiled. "I am impressed."

Sniper asked, "Have you ever used a bow before?"

"It's been a long time since I've shot an arrow."

Sniper handed her the bow. "It doesn't hurt to practice."

Femme Fatale tried to aim for the mannequin's head. But when she released the arrow, he flew and struck the left shoulder.

"Maybe I should use a crossbow."

Sniper took back the bow. She asked, "Can you always take shots to the head?"

He released the arrow and it stuck on the mannequin's forehead once again. He smiled. "It's good being an expert."

Femme Fatale smiled as well. "I guess we have our own abilities."

Femme Fatale kept practicing with Sniper's Huntsman bow. She tried hitting the mannequin's head with arrows, but she could only hit its shoulders and torso. Meanwhile, Sniper caught a glimpse of Weatherman exiting the barracks. He held an envelope in his hand. He opened it and pulled out a folded piece of paper. It looked like Weatherman started reading it. Sniper turned back to see Femme Fatale hitting the mannequin right between its thighs.

Sniper chuckled. "Maybe that could be your true capability."

Femme Fatale remarked, "It would be fun to watch the enemy suffer."

Sniper turned his head to observe Weatherman. This time, the Native-American recruit had a solemn look on his face as he kept reading what was written in the letter in his hands. Weatherman placed the letter back in its envelope as he walked away.

Femme Fatale asked, "Is there something wrong?"

Sniper murmured, "I think there's something going on with our friend Shane."

* * *

When Weatherman entered the lounge, he found a few of his teammates at the poker table. Rocketeer was narrating his life in Hollywood with Demoman, Heavy, Medic, and Bodyguard. Weatherman tried to ignore them as he grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge.

Rocketeer interrupted and asked, "Hey, Shane, do you want to play some poker?"

Weatherman just said, "I'm not in the mood."

Medic asked, "You look a little depressed. Vat is ze matter?"

Weatherman just had to say it. "My brother passed away."

Everyone in the room immediately grew solemn. Weatherman pulled off the bottle cap as he said, "He got into a brawl with a Neo-Nazi back in Jacksonville, and he got shot. He died on the way to the hospital."

Heavy frowned. "I am so sorry."

Weatherman shrugged his shoulders. "Stuff like this happens, you know. You shouldn't worry about it."

Medic noticed his casualness. "That sounds very strange coming from you."

"Isn't it true?"

Rocketeer felt a little confused. "Hey, Shane, you just suffered a big loss. Don't you feel like you're gonna cry?"

Weatherman grew a little irritated. "It's pointless when my brother doesn't know how to respawn."

At that moment, Sniper and Femme Fatale arrived at the lounge.

Femme Fatale asked, "Is it true? Your brother passed away?"

Weatherman sighed. "Yes, he did. And I really wish you would mind your business about it."

Sniper blurted, "We're not insulting you, are we? We just want to know if you're going through a hard time right now."

"Yes, I am! I'm having a hard time because I'm trying to have a little drink and you're all distracting me."

Bodyguard cleared his throat. "It sounds to me like you're trying to ignore your sadness."

"I'm not sad. I'm just a little ticked off. Look, my brother is dead. He's about to be buried six feet under. I can't do anything about it. Now, let me drink this beer in peace."

Weatherman left the room as he cursed under his breath.

The mercenaries were silent. Rocketeer pushed his cards aside as he asked, "Is the battlefield affecting his psyche or something?"

Medic replied, "It's almost as if he doesn't care for the one that he has lost."

Femme Fatale whispered, "Maybe _that's_ the reason."

* * *

Everyone in RED territory eventually heard about the unexpected passing of Weatherman's brother. They also heard about his annoyance when even mentioning his brother. No one could understand it, including Engineer. When the Texan visited the warehouse, he found Weatherman using his power tools to construct what looked like a new weapon.

Amidst the vociferous clamor of a buzz saw, Engineer waved his hand to get Weatherman's attention. Weatherman turned off the buzz saw and asked, "What brings you here?"

Engineer replied, "I just wanted to see how you were."

"So does everyone else."

"You know, from what Ludwig had told me, you don't really seem even the least bit sad about your brother's death."

Weatherman placed the buzz saw on the table. "They do care about what I'm going through. I'll give them credit for that."

Engineer leaned against the wall. "Come on, Shane, what's buggin' ya?"

"The fact that people keep asking about what I'm going through right now. _That's_ what's bugging me."

After a few seconds of silence, Weatherman uttered, "I'm sorry, Randy. I'm just a little confused right now."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know what to feel right now."

"Well, a family member just died. You could at least feel sad."

"I just can't feel it."

"If you can't feel sad…then something strange went on with your family."

Weatherman sighed and kept staring at his latest creation, which wasn't exactly finished yet.

Engineer asked, "Do you not want to talk about it?"

"Actually, I do want to talk about it. I feel like I should get this off my chest."

"And besides, I'm your friend. Hell, we're all friends here. And we care about what we all go through. And I want to know what's bothering you because I don't wanna see you like this. I don't like it when I see my friends going through tough times."

"That's why I like you, Randy. You really _care_ about other people."

"…And your brother didn't?"

"It's not that he cared. It's…all right, it goes like this."

Engineer folded his arms across his chest. "I'm listening."

"My family wasn't exactly the successful type. My parents didn't make a lot of money. We lived in a crummy apartment when my brother and I were very young. Our parents always pushed us to do well in school. They'd take away our dinner if we didn't get anything more than an A Minus. It's safe to say that my brother and I starved a few nights."

"That's kinda harsh."

"But we always believed our mother and father had a good reason for pushing us toward success. The strict parenting seemed to have an effect on my older brother, because he also berated me for making a mistake on my homework. In fact, he became more aggressive than our parents. He pushed me to do my best by forcing me to turn off the TV and staying in my room to study. Sometimes he would block the door with a chair, and I wouldn't get out. Soon, he became my parents, only more ruthless. It didn't make me feel secure. It made me afraid. He frightened me.

"When we became teenagers, I began to detest his presence. He got on my nerves. We became rivals. I remember how. It happened on a summer day. My brother asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Since I had a fascination of building things, I told him that I wanted to be a construction worker. But he didn't like it. In fact, he laughed at me. He thought I had no real vision of the future. He said that I would be better off with a more significant occupation, like a doctor. That was when I had enough. I cursed at him for forcing me to be what _he_ wanted _me_ to be. I hated him. I hated my parents. I hated my existence. I was sixteen when I ran away from home. I didn't want to see them again."

Engineer asked, "Did you ever speak to them again?"

"No, I didn't. It wasn't until five years ago, when I gave my parents a call. I told them that I had enough money to support them. But they still didn't forgive me for leaving the house. You see, my brother moved away to Jacksonville, Florida, to become a firefighter. He supported my parents. They believed in him because he didn't run away. I hated him even more, because my parents failed to understand why I left. And then he dies…"

"I'm sorry to hear that, Shane."

"Now that he's gone, I don't know what to do."

"Here's how I see it. I can see why you're angry at your brother for pushing you too far. But there's one thing you can respect: he did care about you. He _did _want you to be successful. I mean, if he saw you with your Lightning Launcher, I would think that he'd be proud of what you've done."

"He did want me to succeed…"

Engineer examined the unfinished weapon that lay in front of Weatherman and asked, "What are you building?"

"I'm almost finished with a weapon that would cause the enemy to dehydrate."

"What do you call it?"

"Extreme Drought."

"You know, your brother would be impressed."

"I don't think he would be if he knew that it's for killing people."

"Tell me something, Shane. Do you still hate your brother?"

"…I don't think I want to anymore."

* * *

When night approached, Weatherman dialed his parents' phone number once again. Once he heard his father's voice, he asked how he's holding up.

"_Your mother and I are doing fine now_."

"I'm sorry I could attend his funeral. I really wanted to go."

"_At least you cared enough to say you're sorry_."

Weatherman took a deep breath. "Listen, dad…if you need anything, I'll be glad to mail you some money."

"…_That would be nice_."

"I'm working for a very powerful company. My paychecks are pretty big."

"_Just as long as you're making enough money_…"

"Dad?"

"_Yes_?"

"…I'm sorry I left."

He could hear his father give a long sigh. "_It's okay, son_."

Weatherman didn't know what to say next, so he just proclaimed, "I, uh…I'll see you again soon."

And then he hung up.

* * *

Another chapter coming soon, so stay tuned…


	32. SS - The Coliseum

Note: This scenario is a one-time thing, meaning that it's a separate plot from both _Meet the Reinforcements _and _Guardians of Tara-lorium_. Plus, I was partially inspired to write this scenario with the use of several rock songs: _Fuel_ and _2 X 4_ by Metallica, _Train of Consequences_ by Megadeth, _Master of Light_ by Monster Magnet, _Big Fat_ by Anthrax, and _Legendary _by Royce da 5'9'' & Travis Barker. You can find these on YouTube.

* * *

SHORT STORY

The Coliseum

* * *

The Administrator had known Nathaniel Ingram for the past twenty years. She had the chance to know him pretty well. She knew how determined he would be at getting what he wanted. And so it was no surprise that Ingram now wanted to purchase TF Industries. This business move wouldn't be very simple for both of them. But she stuck with her original obligation, and she wouldn't let the man take the company away from her. Ingram didn't give up on his proposition. He would do anything to get a hold of this company. That was when he had the idea of publicizing the private war between the Mann brothers. He notified staff writers from The Chicago Tribune, The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Boston Herald, and The Philadelphia Inquirer. They received the information regarding RED versus BLU, including the life of Zephaniah Mann. Ingram also tipped off a few news reporters from CBS News and NBC News. Even TIME Magazine published their own article on the first few pages of their latest edition. Soon, the news stations reported on the story of Blutarch and Redmond Mann and their fight for inheritance. It was also printed on the front pages of the newspapers. It didn't take long for the story to gain recognition nationwide. In just a couple of days, three quarters of the American people delved into the saga of RED and BLU. They learned of Zephaniah Mann and his two sons, the location of RED/BLU territory, and the fifteen mercenaries from both sides who fought against each other day and night. Those who reported the news didn't specify who exactly tipped them off, namely Ingram, and the man believed that this would be one of his most clever schemes.

One day in July, the mercenaries went on with their ongoing confrontations with their enemies. But something was different about their battle at Badwater Basin. The mercenaries began to notice a group of men and women from behind the fences, taking pictures. When the Administrator declared yet another stalemate, a few of the RED mercenaries went up to the group of photographers and asked who they were. One of them replied that they were from Cincinnati, and they just had to see the battle that went on at Badwater Basin. They explained that they had received the story of Blutarch and Redmond when they saw it on CBS News. They wanted to see the ongoing conflicts between RED and BLU with their own eyes. The mercenaries couldn't figure out how CBS News had gotten a hold of this private war. But nonetheless, they let the Cincinnatians take photos because they never received any orders from Administrator.

But it didn't stop from there. As time went on, more and more visitors stood outside of the combat zone taking pictures and observing the carnage in various locations such as Sawmill, Granary, and Thunder Mountain. The mercenaries discovered that the growing crowds had come from different places from the United States. Some had come from Pittsburgh and Seattle, while others had come from Tucson and New Orleans. Some visitors even came from small towns in Illinois, Arkansas, and Montana. The crowds kept growing, and so did their enthusiasm. More than half of those who attended started to applaud, cheering for either RED or BLU. It wasn't long until a few visitors had created their own banners as they rooted for their favorite team. RED Soldier once spotted two men from Denver wearing the exact same helmet that he wore. They cheered him on, which gave him more confidence as he fought against his enemies. RED Scout found his own fans as well. A dozen young women yelled with their Bostonian accents, applauding him from behind the fence. He gave them a smile, which didn't exactly please RED Assassin. Later on, mercenaries from both sides realized that the publicizing of RED versus BLU had clenched the beginning stages of a cult following that continued to grow.

Soon, every news station on TV kept on reporting on the confrontations between Blutarch and Redmond, which led to the news regarding the mercenaries themselves. Now, everyone in the United States wanted to know more about RED and BLU. The mercenaries kept seeing crowds that gathered whenever their mission began. They wondered what the Administrator thought of all of this. In actuality, Administrator felt quite amused at the attention that they received. She already realized what Mr. Ingram was up to.

A few days later, a businessman from San Diego paid her a visit. They met at Giuseppe's, the same restaurant where Ingram proposed his deal to his newest rival. The San Diego man, named Mr. Calloway, had just finished constructing the largest stadium in the world, roughly the size of four baseball parks. Mr. Calloway asked the Administrator if she would send her mercenaries to fight inside his stadium, the Pacific Coliseum. This way, people would find an easier way to watch the action. This would also add more revenue for the city. But the Administrator refused, saying that the mercenaries were happy to stay in RED/BLU territory. The next entrepreneur that she met was a producer from Hollywood, Douglas Westbrook. He wanted to see if Administrator agreed to create a franchise that centered on her minions. They would have to see if the mercenaries accepted a movie deal, and possibly some merchandise: coffee mugs and fast food, for example. Again, Administrator refused his offer.

Meanwhile, the crowds outside of Mann territory still grew. The applause grew louder, and mercenaries started to lose their concentration. They never expected to find a fanbase that centered on themselves.

Administrator sat on front of the huge monitor in the control room. She watched as American visitors cheered on when the BLU Team pushed the Payload cart toward its destination. She picked up the phone and gave Mr. Ingram a call. She waited until she heard his voice on the other end.

"I must say that you've done a splendid job."

She could hear Mr. Ingram chuckling. "_I knew you'd be impressed. So do your mercenaries admire the attention so far_?"

"It looks to me like they don't mind the spotlight."

"_Then that's exactly how I pictured it_. _Tell me, Helen, are you still thinking about Mr. Calloway's offer_."

"How did you know about Calloway?"

"_I sent him to you. I told you, Helen, I have friends in high places_."

Administrator went silent for a few seconds before she asked, "You know that the people want this, don't you?"

"_When they have the right mindset, it means I have the right opportunity_."

"It shouldn't matter what the people want."

"_I don't think you should stick with that sort of philosophy. Suppose the American people know about your unwillingness to give the mercenaries full exposure. They will think that you're just another corporate loon_."

"Popularity never matters to me."

"_Well, just wait until your mercenaries will embrace their newfound fame_. _You won't be able to stop it_."

He was right. Administrator could see that the mercenaries felt more comfortable with the enthusiasm of the visitors. During their stalemates, they had little chats with some of their new followers. Rocketeer, Demoman, Medic, Sniper, and Bodyguard kept talking about their daily routines. Scout, Engineer, and Weatherman kept talking about their place of origin. And when one of the visitors asked about their supervisor, all Heavy could say was that she had grown to become a complete stranger. They hardly knew about her history, and perhaps it should stay that way. Later, Mr. Calloway visited the mercenaries at Granary. He wanted to get to know these men and women a little more. He met them at night. He explained his proposition with Administrator, and how it would benefit the mercenaries, the fans, and the city of San Diego. Outlaw, Medic, Femme Fatale, and Spy had mixed feelings about Pacific Coliseum. The other mercenaries, however, seemed to have been quite fascinated with brand new terrain. Soldier declared that this could be their big chance at fame.

Administrator knew that this would have to be the only way. The next day, she called Mr. Calloway and said that she accepted his offer. For the next week or so, Calloway made some arrangements for Pacific Coliseum. He commanded his construction workers to replicate a typical Mann structure, something amongst the lines of Dustbowl, Nucleus, and Junction. And it would have two Payload carts for both teams, so it would become a Payload Race to be more exact. The employees immediately began to construct a similar structure on the enormous field. It took at least three weeks to finish it.

In the meantime, RED and BLU mercenaries prepared themselves for their trip to San Diego. Calloway ordered two private jets for both teams. Administrator used her own jet for the trip. When they reached the city, the mercenaries settled in their hotel rooms. This would be their temporary abode for the rest of the month, or until further notice. Calloway would be paying for the hotel services. In the afternoon, the RED mercenaries followed Calloway to the stadium. He gave them a tour, showing them the field, the seats, and the control room. Several of the combatants appeared impressed. However, Calloway noticed one who didn't look excited at all. It was a Sri Lankan woman, and she admitted that she felt uncomfortable with this newfound celebrity status. Calloway assured her that she would always have the option of keeping her personal life away from the spotlight. When the RED team left the stadium, the BLU team entered. Calloway gave them the same tour that he had given with the previous group.

Calloway announced on TV that they were two weeks away from the first battle at Pacific Coliseum. People had enough time to prepare for their trip to San Diego. Tickets had been sold in all fifty states. Both Helen Walsh and Nathaniel Ingram predicted this to be quite a spectacle.

* * *

On the day of the first mission, a crowd already gathered in front of the stadium with their tickets in their hands. Some of them wore t-shirts with picture of their favorite mercenary. Some held banners with their quotes from either the Heavy or the Engineer. All of them applauded at random moments, most of them because of just entering the building when showing their tickets.

Reporters from every news station had arrived on the scene. Roger Griswold from NBC News reported live in front of the energetic horde of devotees. He stood in front of the camera and his crew and stated that these most of these people had waited for three days and three nights just so they could see RED and BLU fight each other. He asked a young man from Minneapolis why he and his friends had waited so long.

The man raised his fist and yelled, "We want to see RED kick the crap out of BLU!"

His friends applauded with him in front of the camera. This became standard behavior among the thousands and thousands of attendees.

Griswold asked about the merchandise that they had purchased from both public and private shops. The fans revealed their t-shirts and posters. The mercenaries were the standard images on these items.

A few minutes later, the RED and BLU team arrived in limousines in the parking lot. Police officers had to push away fervent attendees (photographers and autograph hounds) when the car doors opened. The mercenaries were on their way into the Coliseum.

One attendee shouted, "We love you, Engie!"

Engineer smiled and just walked away.

"Go get 'em, mate!"

Sniper waved his hand at the man with a fake Australian hat.

The only thing that thought about when they entered the Coliseum was if they would be completely well and organized during their future interviews.

* * *

Administrator sat on the highest balcony inside the Coliseum. She watched as the attendees started filling seats all around the building. At the center of the Coliseum stood the constructed showground for the first-ever Payload Race in San Diego. The mission would begin in thirty minutes.

With her arms folded across her chest, Administrator murmured, "This won't last."

Miss Pauling stood behind her and asked, "What do you mean by that?"

"This will be just a fad when the popularity wanes."

"What exactly is Mr. Ingram trying to do?"

"It should be a bit obvious. He is trying to take our mercenaries away from us. You see, they have become quite popular with the American people. If this continues, then they will be obligated to resign in favor of public opinion. Ingram will have the opportunity to purchase TF Industries."

"We could hire new mercenaries if that happens."

"But the American people already know about the Mann Brothers. We will receive backlash from everyone in the country. Our reputation could be tainted with ludicrous notoriety. Everyone would approve of Ingram's decision to buy the company if he exposes himself as a kind gentleman. It's always about appearance. Look at me, Miss Pauling. I am not an attractive woman. But look at Ingram. He is charismatic…and clever."

"But we can't give up just yet. We have to find a solution."

"That is what we've been trying to do for the past month or so."

Administrator chuckled almost aggressively. "I would ruin _his_ reputation if I have the chance."

"How did he know about us?"

"He has done some research on everything involving the Mann family. He knows about Mann Co., he knows about you, and he even knows about Victoria."

Miss Pauling cleared her throat. "You said that he wants TF Industries for his private operations in Asia and South America. What kind of operations is he talking about?"

"That is something that we should research."

* * *

The RED mercenaries had time to do interviews at the stadium lounge. One at a time, an interviewer asked questions while they sat on a stool. The camera was on as Damien Crawford, an expert reporter for CBS News, discussed life as a mercenary.

Crawford asked Soldier, "You say that your name is Mister Jane Doe. Am I correct?"

Soldier held his microphone up to his mouth when he replied, "You've done your homework. I like that."

"But why do your friends call you Troy?"

Soldier shrugged his shoulders. "They think it's easier to remember…as if _Jane_ isn't hard enough."

* * *

Crawford asked Rocketeer, "So you originated from Hollywood?"

Rocketeer smiled. "Yes, that's right. I've worked with lots of important people."

"You mean that your Mongolian parents are important in the filming industry?"

Rocketeer frowned. "Not a lot of people believe that, unfortunately."

"Perhaps it's because the studio that they own releases nothing but B-movie material."

"You know, I'm starting to dislike the typical bias that you news people spread around."

"But isn't that the truth?"

"What _is_ truth? How do you define 'truth'?"

Crawford gave a blank stare. "…I see."

* * *

Crawford asked Engineer, "How is it that you are able to build an incredible turret in such a short time?"

"Two things: luck and versatility."

"I can imagine that construction workers from all over the country are jealous of your grand expertise."

"That would explain the hate mail that keeps filling up my mailbox."

"Do you have anything to say to them?"

Engineer looked directly at the camera. "Don't work harder. Work smarter."

"That sounds like an insult."

"Don't push it, city boy."

* * *

Crawford said to Pyro, "You know, I've been asking you questions for the past fifteen minutes…and I must say that I couldn't understand a word you said. Do you mind taking your mask off for this interview?"

Pyro yelled, "Mmmhmmmhmm-mmmrmmhm!"

"Was that in English?"

"Mmmhmm!"

"Did you just tell me to eat a donut?"

Pyro smacked his head with his palm.

* * *

Crawford couldn't even ask the first question to Demoman, since the Scotsman took his time taking a long sip of liquor. Crawford just sat there, tapping his fingers on his thigh and looking off into space.

* * *

Crawford asked Bodyguard, "Why exactly do you hand out steroids to your friends?"

"Because they need it for battle. It makes them stronger."

"But there can be a few side effects when taking steroids."

"Name one."

"A lack of an appetite when staring at your Steamed Clams."

Bodyguard looked down at the floor. "You hurt my feelings, Crawford."

Crawford laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. My cooking stinks, too."

* * *

Crawford asked Heavy, "Is it true that it costs $400,000 to fire your Minigun?"

"It is money well spent for 12 seconds."

"So does that mean the country is losing money all because of your firearm?"

"You forget big war in China."

Thankfully, Crawford didn't laugh at that. "I'm sorry…my mistake. Tell me, if your team loses tonight, what would you do?"

Heavy gave an iniquitous smile. "They may outsmart us, but they will _never_ outsmart bullet."

* * *

Miss Pauling left Administrator alone on the balcony. She lit a cigarette and kept her eyes on the field, but she sensed the arrival of Mr. Ingram. She didn't have to turn around when he entered the booth.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Helen?"

"Congratulations, Nathaniel. You have just demonstrated one of your more intellectual schemes."

She glanced over her shoulder and saw Ingram smiling.

"So do we have a deal?"

Administrator shook her head. "We are not defeated just yet."

"How is it going to continue, Helen? You keep hiring new mercenaries, and there will always be a way of taking them away from you. You keep ignoring my proposition, and there will always be a way of pulling you back in. I don't think you have the strength to fight it anymore."

"You seem to forget about Saxton Hale."

"And you seem to forget about my friends from all over the world. Competition is a bit unbalanced, I'm afraid."

"Say what you want. The Mann Brothers will never approve of your deal. Your deal is doomed to failure."

Ingram remarked, "You just keep telling yourself that. I'll just stay in the real world and watch as TF Industries becomes a valuable addition to my organization."

He left the balcony. Administrator could do nothing but watch as the pre-game show began. Norman McMullen, a famous American comedian, stood on the rooftop of an artificial edifice. With the use of a microphone in his hand, he joked about the Mann brothers, and how they would treat the RED/BLU mercenaries unfairly. The audience erupted in laughter, but Administrator didn't feel amused by the inaccuracy of his humor. McMullen went on to joke about Heavy's Sandwich, Sniper's Jarate, and Rocketeer & Assassin's failed attempt at Hollywood glory.

* * *

The mission would begin in ten minutes. The RED team went into their locker rooms and prepared for battle. As Sniper loaded his vintage Sniper Rifle, he caught a glimpse of Femme Fatale standing still, looking at her AK-47.

Sniper asked, "What's wrong?"

Femme Fatale sighed. "I feel very uncomfortable with all of this."

Sniper knew what she meant. "Look, I know you're upset about the public. But the American people don't have to know about what you've done in the past."

"They will know about what I have done in India and Nepal. Those who have been searching for me will finally discover where I am."

Outlaw's arrival was unexpected. "We will never let that happen."

Femme Fatale asked, "Are you worried about your privacy as I am about mine?"

"I am more worried about you than I am for myself."

Sniper replied, "We're not going to let anything happen to you, Victoria. In fact, we're not going to let anything bad happen to all of us."

Outlaw laid a hand on Femme Fatale's shoulder. "We are here for you. No one will stand in our way."

Femme Fatale gave a smile.

* * *

The announcer with a huge microphone yelled, "Ladies and gentlemen! The battlegrounds are now open!"

The stadium erupted with loud cheers.

"And now…it's time to meet your favorite mercenaries. Give it up for Builders League United!"

The arrival of the BLU team prompted their fans to chant, "Builders League United! Builders League United! Builders League United!"

The announcer continued, "And give it up for the men and women of Reliable Excavation Demolition!"

The arrival of the RED team prompted their fans to shout, "It's Demolition Time!"

Everyone stood up and cheered with their TF hats, banners, posters, and t-shirts.

The announcer proclaimed, "And now their fate is up to the Administrator!"

The Administrator held her microphone and said, "Mission begins in sixty seconds."

The applause from the crowd grew louder. McMullen led them to chant their favorite lines. Meanwhile, the RED and BLU mercenaries readied themselves for the Payload Race. And somewhere in the stadium, Mr. Ingram watched with a smile on his face. He hoped that their growing popularity would lead to a breakthrough for his business.

"_Mission begins in thirty seconds_."

RED and BLU waited for the gates to open.

RED Scout said to RED Rocketeer, "We got this, don't we?"

Rocketeer smiled. "We _really_ got this."

The spectators couldn't stop chanting.

"Builders League United!"

"Demolition Time!"

"Builders League United!"

"Demolition Time!"

"_Mission begins in ten seconds_."

RED Heavy kept his finger on the trigger as he thought to himself, "Let baby men cry."

"_Five…four…three…two…one…_"

The gates opened.

* * *

Another chapter coming soon…


	33. SS - Letter for an Engineer

Note: This chapter is partially inspired by listening to Rachmaninov's "Scherzo in D minor."

* * *

SHORT STORY

Letter for an Engineer

* * *

_Stavanger, Norway_

Dietrich kept scratching his head as he tried to find a solution to a typical confrontation. He stood still, taking deep breaths. It took him several minutes to make his next move. And then, he smiled. He knew exactly what to do now. He wrote something on a piece of paper. When he finished, he folded the paper and placed it in an envelope. With melted candle wax, he enclosed it with a stamp that the recipient would recognize it instantly. It didn't take long for Dietrich to attach the letter to his St. Bernard's collar. He let his dog out of the apartment. The dog already knew where to go.

One he ran downstairs, the St. Bernard raced towards the local shoemaker. When he received the letter from the dog's collar, the shoemaker recognized the seal on the enclosed envelope. He knew who it was for. He rolled the envelope and attached it to one of his pet pigeon's leg. He ordered his pigeon to fly away from Norway and into its next destination.

_Amsterdam, the Netherlands_

The pigeon flew over the North Sea and reached the city of Amsterdam. She hoped that the one whom she was searching for would still be at home. Luckily, the college student had his window opened. The pigeon flew straight into the living room, where the college student watched a show on his television set. He immediately recognized the bird that stood on the sofa. He smiled as he separated the letter from her leg. The young man had seen the seal on the envelope before. This was the time to turn off the TV. He let the pigeon fly away home before he left his apartment and got inside his car. As soon as he got on the street, he sped up, waiting for the right police car to arrive. A few minutes later, he gazed at his rearview mirror to see police lights flashing all around the area. He pulled over and waited for the officer to give him his ticket. It would be a counterfeit ticket, however. The officer knew the student. The college student handed him the letter. The officer tipped his hat and left the scene.

The officer visited the train station and met one of the conductors. He handed him the letter in secret, and the conductor, in turn, whispered, "Thank you."

The conductor boarded the train that would send him out of the Netherlands.

_France_

The letter would be given a few trips in France. First, the conductor got off of the train that stopped in the city of Dijon. He encountered a middle-aged tourist who took photos of a local restaurant. The conductor whispered in the tourist's ear, "Take this to the man who loves wine."

The tourist nodded. He left the conductor alone and visited a restaurant five blocks away. He found the man who drunk wine. He seemed jolly, but as soon as he spotted the tourist with the letter in his hand, the wine drinker felt annoyed at what he had to do next. The drinker emptied an entire bottle of wine in a bathroom sink. He placed the envelope inside the bottle. He walked outside and waited for the female bicyclist to arrive. When she did, the drinker held the bottle up high so she could see from a distance. She drove right past him, but she held out her hand and the drinker immediately let go of the bottle when she grabbed hold of it.

The bicyclist rode right outside of the city. She visited a park, where she would meet the next recipient. A squirrel jumped from a tree and landed on her lap. She handed him the letter. The squirrel ran away with the envelope in its mouth. He dug himself a hole underground. From there, he hitched journeyed through a maze of underground pipes. He emerged and found himself in the city of La Rochelle. He visited one of the ports without any of the humans even noticing him. The squirrel handed the envelope to a stork. The stork just sat on the upper deck and waited for the entire ship to leave the Bay of Biscay and into the Atlantic Ocean.

_Hartford, Connecticut_

As soon as the ship made it to the port, the stork flew away. Several hundred feet above the streets, he dropped the envelope down below. It landed on a trash can, where a stray cat took it upon himself to complete Dietrich's task. He hid himself in a pickup truck and waited for it to drive off.

_Philadelphia, Pennsylvania_

The truck stopped, and the stray cat immediately jumped off the vehicle. He gave the letter to a college student who spent his time in a park. The college student attached the envelope to his Frisbee. He flung the round object high up in the air. The Frisbee landed next to a gopher on the other side of the park. The gopher ran through underground passages from under Philadelphia and beyond.

_Memphis, Tennessee_

The gopher found himself in the airport. He found the man he was looking for. He showed the envelope to the co-pilot who would fly the next mail plane. When it soared in the sky, the plane flew over Mann territory. The co-pilot attached the envelope to a brick with a small rope. He opened the side door and threw the brick out of the plane.

_Gravel Pit_

When the brick landed on the asphalt, it broke into a dozen pieces. The envelope remained intact, however. The RED Pyro picked it up and recognized the seal. He threw it up and air blasted it away from the ongoing _Capture Point_ quarrel.

The RED Medic kept charging the RED Heavy with his Medi Gun. The piece of paper floating in the air caught his eye. He grabbed it and sprinted away from the battle. But a Crit rocket from a BLU Soldier hit him hard. He exploded into pieces, and the envelope fell on the floor.

The RED Demoman took a sip from his bottle of liquor and wiped his lips with his arm. He picked up the envelope in front of him and turned around just in time to see a BLU Spy emerging from his invisibility. He had his Butterfly Knife in his hand, but Demoman didn't care. He shoved the envelope in the Spy's mouth and aimed his Grenade Launcher at his chest. Demoman pulled the trigger, and the BLU Spy immediately exploded into pieces. His head soared above the rooftops and into the other side of Gravel Pit. It landed on RED Sniper's feet. He pulled the envelope out of the dead Frenchman's teeth.

Sniper stared at the envelope and shook his head. He whispered to himself, "Bloody Hell."

He punctured it an arrow. With his Huntsman bow, he pointed the arrow right at his own team's barracks. He released the arrow, and it flew all the way back to base. It stuck on the wooden wall. RED Engineer detached the arrow and finally broke the envelope's seal. He unfolded the letter and read it.

The words, "_Move the Rook to the left, three times_," had been written.

Standing between a Teleporter, a Dispenser, and a Level 3 Sentry was a chessboard. Engineer followed Dietrich's command. He moved the Rook three blocks to the left. The two of them grew ever closer in finishing their game of chess.

Engineer rubbed his chin as he thought of his next move. Several seconds later, he smiled. He knew exactly what to do now. He wrote it on a piece of paper and did everything properly so that the recipient would recognize it instantly.

* * *

Note: I know it's not that funny, but I'm really trying to improve on my sense of humor. Maybe a few chapters later, it'll really show.

* * *

Coming Up Next:

Introduction (REVISED)


	34. Small Update on Outlaw's Arsenal

Small Update on Outlaw's Arsenal

The Pistol is still technically a Tertiary Weapon, but now it's a part of the Primary/Secondary weapons. His trademark lighter is attached to the top of the barrel of the Pistol. Outlaw pulls the hammer and the lighter is turned on. This way, he'll light his Stick of Dynamite, Molotov cocktail, and other ammunition by touching it with the barrel of the Pistol. The Pistol still has the same rounds and the same function as a backup weapon. Primary/Secondary weapons are lit and thrown at an enemy by pressing the "Right Mouse" button.


	35. The 12 Days of Coldfront

The Twelve Days of Coldfront

* * *

And now, a Christmas Carol…

On the first day of Coldfront, the Administrator sees

A ham sandwich on a Christmas tree!

On the second day of Coldfront, the Administrator sees

Two bolts of lightning and a ham sandwich on a Christmas tree!

On the third day of Coldfront, the Administrator sees

Three Texans dancing, two bolts of lightning and a ham sandwich on a Christmas tree!

On the fourth day of Coldfront, the Administrator sees

Four Medics laughing, three Texans dancing, two bolts of lightning, and a ham sandwich on a Christmas tree!

On the fifth day of Coldfront, the Administrator sees

Five Flash Grenades!

Four Medics laughing, three Texans dancing, two bolts of lightning, and a ham sandwich on a Christmas tree!

On the sixth day of Coldfront, the Administrator sees

Six Soldiers jumping

Five Flash Grenades!

Four Medics laughing, three Texans dancing, two bolts of lightning, and a ham sandwich on a Christmas tree!

On the seventh day of Coldfront, the Administrator sees

Seven Poisoned Arrows, Six Soldiers jumping

Five Flash Grenades!

Four Medics laughing, three Texans dancing, two bolts of lightning, and a ham sandwich on a Christmas tree!

On the eighth day of Coldfront, the Administrator sees

Eight Scouts sprinting, Seven Poisoned Arrows, Six Soldiers jumping

Five Flash Grenades!

Four Medics laughing, three Texans dancing, two bolts of lightning, and a ham sandwich on a Christmas tree!

On the ninth day of Coldfront, the Administrator sees

Nine Dead Ringers, Eight Scouts sprinting, Seven Poisoned Arrows, Six Soldiers jumping

Five Flash Grenades!

Four Medics laughing, three Texans dancing, two bolts of lightning, and a ham sandwich on a Christmas tree!

On the tenth day of Coldfront, the Administrator sees

Ten clean machetes, Nine Dead Ringers, Eight Scouts sprinting, Seven Poisoned Arrows, Six Soldiers jumping

Five Flash Grenades!

Four Medics laughing, three Texans dancing, two bolts of lightning, and a ham sandwich on a Christmas tree!

On the eleventh day of Coldfront, the Administrator sees

Eleven drunken Scotsmen, Ten clean machetes, Nine Dead Ringers, Eight Scouts sprinting, Seven Poisoned Arrows, Six Soldiers jumping

Five Flash Grenades!

Four Medics laughing, three Texans dancing, two bolts of lightning, and a ham sandwich on a Christmas tree!

On the twelfth day of Coldfront, the Administrator sees

Twelve Steroid pills, Eleven drunken Scotsmen, Ten clean machetes, Nine Dead Ringers, Eight Scouts sprinting, Seven Poisoned Arrows, Six Soldiers jumping

Five Flash Grenades!

Four Medics laughing, three Texans dancing, two bolts of lightning, and a ham sandwich on a Christmas tree!


	36. SS - Los Campanilleros

SHORT STORY

Los Campanilleros

* * *

"_Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer  
Had a very shiny nose  
And if you ever saw it  
You would even say it glows.  
All of the other reindeer  
Used to laugh and call him names  
They never let poor Rudolph  
Join in any reindeer games_."

This song would've been proper for such a holiday, if only Scout was NOT the one singing it. The RED mercenaries kept covering their ears with their hands whenever the Bostonian opened his mouth to sing. Demoman wanted to shove a Sticky Bomb right into Scout's mouth, but he just couldn't do it. When Scout wanted to sing again, Heavy and Bodyguard told him to keep his mouth shut, or else they would sit on him for the rest of the week. That certainly shut him up. But the melodies of Christmas carols didn't end there. Outlaw brought his acoustic guitar with him in the barracks. Half of the RED team joined him as he began to sing a Spanish Christmas carol. It was a traditional composition titled "Los Campanilleros." He began with a soft Tango-like intro as he plucked the strings on his guitar. And then, he sang:

"_En los campos de mi Andalucía los campanilleros en la madrugá  
me despiertan con sus campanillas y con sus guitarras me hacen llorar,  
me hacen llorar...  
me despiertan con sus campanillas y con sus guitarras me hacen llorar._

"_Los gitanos que van por el monte cantando y bailando al amanecer  
van tocando zambombas, panderos, cantandole coplas al Niño de Dios,  
al Niño de Dios...  
van tocando zambombas, panderos, cantandole coplas al Niño de Dios_."

He began to play faster on his guitar.

"_En la noche de la Nochebuena, bajo las estrellas de la madrugá  
los pastores, con sus campanillas, adoran al Niño que ha nacido ya,  
que ha nacido ya...  
los pastores, con sus campanillas, adoran al Niño que ha nacido ya_."

The volume of the guitar grew louder and louder.

"_En los campos de mi Andalucía los campanilleros por la madrugá_

_me despiertan con sus campanillas adoran al Niño que ha nacido ya.  
__Que ha nacido ya..._"

When he finished, Sniper complimented him on his guitar playing. Scout wanted to sing another Christmas carol, but Heavy gave him an inquisitive glance. Scout didn't say anything else after that.

* * *

More Christmas stories coming soon…

* * *

Note: The actual song, "Los Campanilleros," can be found on YouTube. Find the one that's sung by Ismael Serrano, since it's one of the best versions that I've heard.


	37. SS - Cold City, Bright Lights

SHORT STORY

Cold City, Bright Lights

* * *

The spirit of Christmas arrived in Coldfront, and it was in the shape of an enthusiastic RED team.

Engineer visited the storage room and brought out all of the lights and statues that he needed for the colossal display on the roof. He didn't leave anything out as he wanted this to be his best Christmas display ever built. The Administrator gave him permission to build one during this holiday season. The news gave him a sense of excitement as he already planned on how he would construct all of it. All he needed now were a few assistants.

In the afternoon, Weatherman and Demoman visited him in the storage room and watched him pulling huge plastic candy canes from out of an open box. Engineer hummed the tune, "We Three Kings of Orient Are," as he gathered around the figures that he wanted.

Demoman asked, "What kind of display do you have in mind?"

Engineer chuckled. "It's kind of a secret. I've got all afternoon to build it. Any of you want to help me with this?"

Demoman took a step backward. "I'd love to help ya, but I'm busy with something else."

"You're not gonna dance drunk to old Scottish tunes again, are you?"

"It's a Christmas tradition of ours. Don't ever question the DeGroots."

Engineer added a hint of sarcasm when he said, "Why would I ever do that?"

Weatherman cleared his throat. "Hey, count me in. I'll be happy to help you out."

Engineer smiled. "It's good to have someone who cares about what I'll do on the roof."

"You're not gonna play the fiddle, are you?"

"What?"

"Never mind. How much of this stuff do you really need?"

Engineer pushed a life-sized reindeer statue out from the corner. "We're gonna have to make a few trips. And after that, it's fun time on a cold metal roof."

"Don't you mean a _hot tin_ roof?"

"What?"

"Never mind."

* * *

Outlaw was about to enter one of the bedrooms until the Soldier walked across the hallway with an axe in his hand.

The Argentinian asked, "What are you going to do with that?"

Soldier replied, "I'm gonna cut down a tree."

Sniper walked right behind him. "And I'm going to help him carry it. Do you want to join us?"

Outlaw shook his head. "I'd rather cherish the warmth of a cozy fireplace than expose myself to the wintry silence of the forest."

Soldier stared at him for a few seconds before he said, "Your loss, pal."

Soldier and Sniper walked away. Outlaw entered one of the bedrooms. Ever since they arrived, the six new recruits had stayed in three newly formed bedrooms. Rocketeer and Assassin had to share a room. Weatherman had to sleep in the second room with Bodyguard. Outlaw shared the third room with Femme Fatale. When he walked inside, he saw Femme Fatale lying on the top bunk bed. She was reading a book, and she wore a scarf around her neck.

Outlaw asked, "What are you reading?"

"It's the Holy Bible. I'm not a religious woman, but I am interested in exploring the purpose of the mixture of the birth of Jesus Christ and the exchanging of presents."

Outlaw put his hands in his pockets. "You won't find much in the Bible, since everyone's going more for the presents these days."

Femme Fatale sat up. "Yet there are still so many questions about Christmas."

"Do you celebrate it?"

"No, I don't. In fact, my entire family has never exchanged gifts on the 25th."

"You have _never _celebrated Christmas in your life?"

"It sounds almost depressing when you say it that way."

"My apologies, Victoria. It's just that I am convinced that you're missing out on a special universal holiday."

"To tell you the truth, I don't think I am ever interested in the holiday season."

"There are so many things that happen during this particular month. You have presents covered in wrapping paper, you have trees, you have cookies, and you have eggnog. And there is so much more."

"It looks like I have so much to learn about this so-called Christmas."

"It won't be so hard, Victoria. I will show you how it's all done."

Femme Fatale smiled. "And maybe you can show me how to sing a few carols."

Outlaw rubbed his chin. "Scout could show you how, though you would have to find a way to sing them _in key_."

* * *

Scout, Assassin, and Rocketeer bit through their candy canes soon after they finished watching _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_.

Rocketeer remarked, "Have you ever noticed how the Grinch looks a little like the Spy?"

Scout replied, "That's probably true. Look at the size of his heart."

After a couple of commercials, _It's a Wonderful Life_ had been announced as the next film.

Scout straightened up from his seat. "Hell, yes! I've been waiting to see this movie again."

Assassin grabbed the remote from Scout's hand. "No way, Simon. _Miracle on 34__th__ Street_ is on right now. I've been waiting to see _that_ movie for a long time."

"You gonna watch that over _this_?"

"Hey, _Miracle_ is a classic."

"Yeah, and so is _Wonderful Life_."

Rocketeer just sat there in silence as Assassin said, "_Miracle_ has a better plot, you know."

"But it doesn't have Jimmy Stewart in it. And it doesn't have angels, either."

"Well, _Wonderful Life_ doesn't have Santa Claus in it. And you already know what's gonna happen in the ending."

"Hey, you already know what's gonna happen in _Miracle_."

Rocketeer couldn't take it any longer. "Will you guys stop it already?! Both of you have seen _Miracle_ and _Wonderful Life_ at least ten times now. Why are you arguing about it?"

Both Scout and Assassin yelled, "BECAUSE IT'S CHRISTMAS!"

At that moment, the TV screen turned black. Scout tried pressing buttons on the remote control, but the TV didn't respond.

"What the hell's going on?"

Rocketeer stood up from the sofa and looked out the window. "It's the Engineer. He just cut down the antenna!"

"Why'd he do that?"

"He's putting his display on the roof."

Assassin folded her arms across her chest. "You mean we're not able to watch any movies on TV?"

Rocketeer shrugged his shoulders. "It looks like the tradition is over."

Scout sighed. "Don't worry. Randy's gonna put the antenna back on…at least I hope so."

Rocketeer sat back on the sofa. "What should we do in the meantime?"

Scout opened his mouth, but Rocketeer raised a finger. "No, we're not gonna do any caroling outside. You've done enough damage to our eardrums already."

Assassin asked, "What time is it?"

Rocketeer looked at his watch. "It's ten minutes after three o'clock. Hey, wait a minute. Why don't we pass the time by making some snowmen outside?"

"I don't know. Isn't that a little juvenile?"

"Yes."

The three of them looked at each other. And then, they smiled.

* * *

Engineer put the TV antenna aside as he worked on stapling the Christmas lights all over the roof. Weatherman stapled sheep figurines to the rooftop.

He asked, "How long do you think this is gonna take us?"

Engineer finished arranging the lights. "It'll probably take at least three hours."

"Maybe I should've brought some hot cocoa or something."

"That's the coward's way out. A real man never stops working in the cold of winter."

"Do you actually believe that?"

"Heck, no. Let's take a break."

Engineer and Weatherman climbed down the ladder. They visited the cafeteria to pour themselves cups of hot coffee. They walked back outside and observed the unfinished display. Engineer explained to Weatherman what he really wanted.

Weatherman raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure we have enough electricity for that?"

Engineer smiled. "There's never too little for anything, buddy."

They drank their coffee in a brief moment of silence. Weatherman stared at his coffee mug as he recollected moments from his past.

"Randy, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, go right ahead."

"Have you and your father ever had a bad Christmas?"

"Nah, we always had a fine holiday season every year. I sure remember the memories that we've had, what with the trees and eggnog and square-dancing and all."

Weatherman chuckled. "You must've had such a wonderful time with your family."

Engineer noticed Weatherman's frown. "Is there something wrong, Shane?"

"…Yeah, there is. Do you remember when I talked about my older brother, the one that passed away?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well, I've been thinking about my entire family, and how we rarely celebrated Christmas. I mentioned that my parents didn't make a lot of money. They couldn't buy presents, and they couldn't even afford cookies from the local bakery. Sometimes I felt so sad because I didn't even know who Santa Claus was when I was very young. It's been rough back home."

Engineer took off his goggles. "Did your parents ever give you just one present?"

"They did…once. They gave me a bicycle when I was eleven. It's one of the more pleasant memories that I have."

"I know you can't change the past, but look all around you. You now have friends who'll celebrate with ya."

"That's true. It's starting to become a very merry holiday. But there's something else in my mind."

"And what's that?"

Weatherman took a deep breath. "The old Christmas spirit is giving me a little fixation. I want a family of my own."

"Man, that's a very big wish you're talkin' about."

"Still, I want to know what it feels like to have a wife and child."

"It might be a little rough, seeing as how you're still working for the Administrator."

"Yeah…but I'm still looking forward to it."

Engineer gave him a pat on the shoulder. "I'm sure you'd be a darn good father."

"Thanks, Engie. Shall we get back to work?"

"You've read my mind."

Engineer and Weatherman finished up their cups of coffee and continued with the construction of the display.

* * *

Bodyguard paid a little visit to the cafeteria to see a banquet in progress. The chefs, including Leonard, were cooking nonstop for tonight's dinner. He watched from a distance as they grilled some ham and boiled some eggs. Leonard, in particular, collected vegetables for some delicious vegetable soup. Bodyguard enjoyed watching them work, but it didn't make him feel much better than before. He had the urge to cook something of his own. But seeing as how his food always received a negative reception from everyone in RED territory, he could find the opportunity. But then, he eyed the ham that had been prepared for the oven. He watched as Leonard put some finishing touches on the large piece of meat. When Leonard left the kitchen, Bodyguard wanted to see it up close. He tiptoed into the kitchen and smelled the ham. The scent was very appetizing. But it needed something else. Slowly and quietly, he pulled out a can of cinnamon powder from one of the cupboards. Just as he was about to open the lid, Leonard's voice from behind his back caught him off guard.

"You didn't have to make it look like who weren't here. We can still see you."

Bodyguard turned around. "It's just a pinch of cinnamon."

"Oh, really? I know all about your cooking techniques, Nazir. It's never_ just _the cinnamon. What else were you going to add?"

"…Some caviar and oatmeal."

Leonard looked disgusted. "This is why we never allow you in the kitchen anymore."

"Please, let me touch up your ham!"

"No!"

Bodyguard whispered, "All right, then. How about we make a compromise?"

"What sort of compromise?"

"I see that you still haven't made some dessert. You don't have to trouble yourselves with long hours of baking bread and cakes. While you do your thing with the main course, let me finish the feast with some of my own desserts."

"That's not gonna happen, Nazir."

"Just listen to me for once. The flavor will not be dreadful this time. It is one of my grandma's personal recipes. You know better than to reject the savor of an old woman's dessert."

"And what happens if you fail?"

"Then I will forget about cooking in your kitchen."

"That sounds like a neat offer. But what exactly is the name of your grandmother's desert?"

Bodyguard whispered it in Leonard's ear. Leonard appeared curious.

"I'll give you a shot. But don't mess it up. Remember the time you made that sting ray noodle soup?"

"At least my friends have tried something new."

* * *

Scout, Assassin, and Rocketeer seemed like kids again as they enjoyed their time outside. They made their own snowmen for about half an hour. Each of them looked different. Rocketeer built snowmen that looked like Medics using their saws. Assassin created a snowman that tried to run away from an incoming rocket. Scout, on the other hand, had created a real scenario of his own. He had built four snowmen on four snow horses who tried to slay a snow dragon. Compared to the ones from Rocketeer and Assassin, Scout's creation looked first-rate.

Rocketeer was impressed with the visual artistry. "How did you do that?"

Scout showed off his muscles to Assassin. "Oh, I had a little experience with snow back in Boston."

Assassin rolled her eyes while Rocketeer added, "You must have had a lot of snow in the East coast."

"Yeah. I'm sorry that you Californians aren't able to have a fully white Christmas."

Rocketeer laughed. "Hey, snow doesn't have to be real."

"What do ya mean by that?"

"Yvonne and I made a movie for Christmas. It was called _The Swedish Elf and the Vegetarian Yeti_. We used white-colored sawdust as snow for the movie. When filming ended in December, Yvonne and I romped around the fake snow. We even made snow angels on it."

"That sounds stupid, man."

"Hey, don't blame us Hollywood folks for having the best fake snow in the country."

Assassin rolled her eyes again.

A few minutes later, Sniper joined them as they continued making their own snow creations. He complimented them on their vivid imaginations.

Rocketeer replied, "Thanks, Howard. It's nice to have a man who appreciates fine works of art."

Sniper brushed off the snow from his hat. "Soldier and I have just put a tree inside the barracks. Do you want to help me decorate it?"

Scout smiled. "Oh, we'll be flattered."

* * *

Outlaw handed Femme Fatale a cup of hot cocoa as they began to observe the ongoing construction of Engineer's Christmas display from right outside the cafeteria.

Femme Fatale asked, "What do you supposed will be the official scenario?"

Outlaw scratched the side of his head. "From the looks of it, it appears that Santa Claus is about to steal the Intel as fast-moving elves try to stop him."

"To me, it looks like a fat Russian man trying to hide his sandwich from a gang of reindeer with machetes."

Outlaw chuckled before he took a sip of cocoa. "I guess it is still up for interpretation."

Femme Fatale shifted her gaze to the trees and hills that surrounded the buildings of Coldfront. "It is such a beautiful location, don't you agree?"

"Yes, I do."

"So, tell me more about Santa and the chimney."

"According to popular belief, Santa has the ability to climb up and down the chimney without even using his hands."

Femme Fatale looked amused. "And how is that possible?"

Outlaw smiled. "It is a complete mystery to all of us."

"And what is the purpose of giving gifts to each other."

"It's quite simple, really. You give a present to the ones you adore the most. And then, you give a fruitcake to the ones you adore the_ least_."

"I'm beginning to appreciate the holiday season a little more."

"I'm pleased that you're feeling this way."

"Do you usually celebrate Christmas?"

"I did…but I stopped when I ran away from my home country. When the ones that I cared about had died in vain, I couldn't even bring myself to chop down a tree. But now, I am here with my new friends. And I've never felt so alive."

"It's good to see that you're in high spirits."

Outlaw turned to look at Femme Fatale. The Sri Lankan woman's eyes seemed to gleam in the afternoon sun. "Are you adapting to the Christmas environment?"

"Yes, and I do believe that I am truly benefiting from it."

"Why don't we celebrate our health at the moment?"

"Why, yes. To our health!"

Outlaw and Femme Fatale clank their coffee mugs together and drank their cocoa at the same time.

Their silent merriment was cut short when they heard Weatherman screaming from the rooftops. They could hear Engineer apologizing for pointing the staple gun in the wrong direction.

* * *

The Administrator started to feel a bit of annoyance when she saw Miss Pauling entering her office with a Santa hat on her head.

Miss Pauling asked, "Does the hat bother you?"

Administrator grunted. "It doesn't quite fit your persona."

"Does it even matter? It's the holidays. It's one of the most jovial times in the entire year."

Administrator replied with a monotonous tone, "What a big deal. People exchange useless gifts while they get drunk on eggnog that's been mixed with whiskey and mustard."

"That's not the right mindset to have on Christmas. You sound like the female version of Ebenezer Scrooge…only Ebenezer has a more consistent hairstyle."

"Say that again?!"

Miss Pauling cleared her throat. "Tell me something, Ms. Walsh, was there ever a time when you actually enjoyed the holiday season?"

"Why would _you_ want to know?"

"I'm just curious. That's all."

Administrator sighed. "If you must know, there had been a time when I didn't have to feel like Scrooge's wife. A long time ago, there was a man named Franklin Gallagher. We became very close. We were attached to each other like paper and tape. I remember when we celebrated the holidays. It was a time of the year like no other. But something happened that shattered both of our worlds. He died the day before New Year's Eve. Someone stabbed him to death near the grocery store. They never found the criminal, but I stopped caring many years later. I stopped caring about Christmas ever since. We were thirty-two years old when he passed away."

Miss Pauling murmured, "I'm really sorry to hear that."

"Sometimes it just isn't the same without Franklin."

"But memories still live on, don't they?"

"I don't believe in that particular philosophy."

"Well, I do. I've broken up with a boyfriend once, and it hurt me for awhile. But I bounced back, and now I'm working for you. Isn't that what you're supposed to do? Stop living in the past and focus on the future?"

"I don't care, Miss Pauling."

"Well, you should. It's the holidays, for crying out loud."

"I think it's time for you to leave now."

Without another word, Miss Pauling left her office with an irritated mood. Administrator stayed silent as she observed the computer monitors in front of her. She watched as RED mercenaries enjoyed every minute of the holiday season by decorating trees and putting displays on the roof. She remembered when she used to decorate a tree with Franklin. But that was many years ago.

* * *

"Is it true?"

"Just see for yourself."

Leonard showed one of Bodyguard's finished products to Heavy and Medic. They looked absolutely stunned at what Bodyguard had just produced. The strawberry cream pie looked elegant from top to bottom.

Medic asked, "Is this some kind of a trick?"

Leonard shook his head. "I kid you not. Nazir had made this all by himself (with no supervision, I might add)."

Heavy licked his lips. "It smells delicious. It must _taste_ delicious."

Leonard raised a hand. "Be careful, now. Looks can be deceiving. I'll make the sacrifice. I'll give it a taste. And if it's to my liking…I'll save you all the trouble and eat the whole thing myself."

"Don't be greedy, chef man."

* * *

When they finished decorating the tree, Scout, Assassin, Rocketeer, and Sniper stood back. Sniper turned the light switch on, and the lights on the tree gave off significant luminosity. Balls, bulbs, figurines, and a star on top were a precious addition to the brilliant spectacle.

Scout commented, "It could've been better."

Sniper whispered, "Oh, shut up."

* * *

In the evening, everyone (excluding the Administrator) gathering in the cafeteria. The RED team watched as the chefs brought out the main course: roast ham, roast chicken, sirloin steak, BBQ ribs, garlic bread, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, vegetable soup, potato salad, cornbread, biscuits, macaroni & cheese, and glass bottles of Silver Dollar Cola. Mouths watered, and tears were shed.

But before everyone laid their hands on the food, Soldier yelled, "Halt! You barbarians don't know the first thing about a proper Christmas feast. First, we gotta say 'Grace'."

Assassin asked, "Do we have to?"

Engineer whispered, "Don't ever question him during a big dinner like this."

Everyone closed their eyes, lowered their head, and pressed their palms together.

Soldier declared, "Dear Lord…thanks for letting us kick the crap out of BLU. Amen!"

Everyone immediately reached for the main course.

* * *

They couldn't stop chewing and they couldn't stop yapping. Heavy stuffed his mouth with steak. Demoman chewed the corn right off the stem. Spy took slow sips of his vegetable soup. Rocketeer mixed his mashed potatoes with his potato salad. Soldier placed a piece of ham between two pieces of garlic bread and ate it all. Even as he kept his mask on, Pyro opened up his oxygen filter to take a sip of his soda (by using a straw). It seemed like such a fantastic sight during the holiday season.

Miss Pauling arrived just a few minutes after dinner began. When she said hello, the fifteen mercenaries waved their hands. She sat between Medic and Sniper and asked for some food.

When she collected mashed potatoes on her plate, Engineer asked, "Where's our Administrator?"

Miss Pauling replied, "She's feeling a little stubborn tonight."

Sniper finished off a BBQ rib. "That's a real shame."

Scout shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, that means more food for us!"

* * *

But she _did_ arrive. Halfway through the meal, she appeared at the front entrance with her hands behind her back. The mercenaries stopped eating and just stared at her. She walked quietly towards them.

Bodyguard asked, "Is there a problem, madam?"

Administrator covered a light cough with her fist. "There is nothing wrong. I just wanted to say something to all of you."

The mercenaries paid close attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen…I hope you all have a Merry Christmas."

Femme Fatale gave a little grin. "Merry Christmas, madam."

Administrator left the cafeteria. The mercenaries went back to stuffing themselves with the main course.

Outlaw whispered in Femme Fatale's ear. "I didn't think the Administrator would say such a thing."

Femme Fatale whispered back, "I'm just so glad that she said it…even if it wasn't from the heart."

* * *

"Now it is time for dessert."

Everyone in the dining hall grew skeptical about eating Bodyguard's desserts. Engineer asked Medic if he should prepare himself for eventual death. Medic assured him that there would be nothing to be afraid of.

Bodyguard and the chefs brought out the desserts from the kitchen.

"Voila!"

Bodyguard presented his strawberry cream pies to the mercenaries, who appeared impressed with how it looked.

Rocketeer remarked, "I'm starting to feel a little hungry again."

Bodyguard cut a slice of pie and put it on a small plate. He handed it to Heavy as he said, "For being such a wonderful companion, I'd like you to take the first bite."

Heavy asked, "Should I be awake for this?"

Bodyguard laughed. "Of course, you silly goose!"

Heavy took a deep breath as he took the first bite. And then, his eyes widened.

"It is delicious!"

He continued eating the slice of pie. Now, everyone else wanted to have a taste of Bodyguard's strawberry cream pie.

Scout murmured, "Thank God he still knows how to make a damn good dessert."

Assassin added, "Damn straight. Do you remember his jalapeno cake?"

"Please, Yvonne, I'm still trying to wet my appetite."

* * *

The Administrator's office was silent. She sat at her desk with a piece of paper in her hand. It was an old love letter that Franklin Gallagher had sent her just a few days before Christmas. She remembered that particular Christmas Eve. It was one of the most romantic nights that they've spent together. But now he was gone. Even if his death happened a long time ago, she truly missed him so much. She had no one else but him. She didn't cry, but she had the urge to shed a single tear. All she did was smile.

* * *

"All right, is everyone ready?"

The RED mercenaries stood outside as Engineer turned on the Christmas display. The lights shone bright. The mercenaries had to shield their eyes with their hands before adjusting to the luminosity. They viewed the display on the roof. It was truly spectacular. It appeared to be the size of a roller coaster.

Soldier asked, "Care to explain what this is all about?"

Engineer pointed out all the intricate details. Santa Claus acted as the Administrator, and watched as his RED and BLU elves fought each other while the reindeer pulled a Payload cart towards its destination.

Heavy smiled. "It is so beautiful."

"Thanks, Heavy."

Scout remarked, "This is one of the best displays I've ever seen."

Rocketeer just had a thought. "Hey, Engie, how much electricity are you using for all this?"

The lights all around Coldfront (including the display) suddenly turned itself off, and everything went dark.

A power outage.

Rocketeer whispered, "Never mind."

* * *

Another chapter coming soon…


	38. SS - Ultimatums for the New Year

Note: Remember, the chapter entitled "The Coliseum" isn't exactly canon for this fanfiction. It's just a one-time thing for _Meet the Reinforcements_. Unfortunately, Mr. Ingram still won't give up on achieving his primary goal.

Also, this will be the last chapter for 2012. I still have plenty of more chapters coming up in 2013. There will be more dramatic stories, though there will be some humorous ones as well. And _Guardians of Tara-lorium _will be updated pretty soon. In the meantime, I'll see you all in the New Year.

* * *

SHORT STORY

Ultimatums for the New Year

* * *

Just ten more minutes, and the New Year would arrive. Administrator stayed in her office, while the RED and BLU mercenaries partied in their barracks. Miss Pauling joined the RED team as they celebrated with drinks and confetti. Administrator waited for a phone call from her newest adversary.

Soon enough, the phone rang. Administrator picked it up and said, "I knew you'd call me."

Nathaniel Ingram asked, "_Are you enjoying yourself so far_?"

"Yes, as much as you are."

"_It sure doesn't sound like you are. Are you still adamant about what the New Year will bring us_?"

Administrator felt amused. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You can feel it as much as I do. The New Year will bring new opportunities."

"Is that so?"

"I have some new ideas on how to get what I want."

In the city of Chicago, Mr. Ingram sat at his office. Even if he didn't celebrate the New Year that often, he still anticipated what lay ahead in the near-future. Dozens of files lay scattered on his desk. Most of them included photos of the fifteen mercenaries that had been hired by Administrator. Their personal information had fascinated Ingram as much as the entire Mann organization did. There were a few who seemed to have the right qualities if they ever considered joining Ingram's organization.

Ingram smiled as he said, "Don't worry, Helen. I won't ruin your fun right away. It'll be slow and calculated. You won't even know until I've finished halfway through."

On the other end, Administrator sounded more amused than ever. "_Don't be so sure of it. There is always a way of preventing infiltration_."

Ingram picked up a photo of the Scout, and then a photo of the Demoman. "I'm getting to know a little more about your mercenaries. I haven't had this much fun since my company occupied a great piece of land in Greenland. Maybe if I had the chance to meet them all in person, I would see just how vulnerable they are to cold hard cash."

"_I don't think you should waste your time so such a silly little thing_."

"Sometimes I do enjoy wasting my time."

"Do you now?"

Ingram sighed. "Do you know what's going to happen in the New Year?"

"_Yes, I do. But I don't believe you would stoop so low. It's a wasted opportunity on your part_."

"Why don't we find out, shall we?"

Ingram wrote three words on a notepad: _Bribe_, _Blackmail_, and _Amnesty_

"It's been nice talking to you, Helen."

"_It must be, seeing as how you called me first_."

"Happy New Year."

"_Same to you_."

They both hung up. Soon, the New Year would arrive in Chicago. Ingram could hardly wait.

* * *

Another chapter coming soon…


	39. SS-Mercenaries Don't Have Heart Attacks

SHORT STORY

Mercenaries Don't Have Heart Attacks

* * *

January, 1969

RED and BLU mercenaries were given the entire weekend off on a cold winter month at Barnblitz. While BLU could do nothing but lie around and rest, RED had something else in mind. It all started when Engineer asked the Administrator if his teammates could make some improvements in their permanent habitat. He wanted to construct a much larger lounge than the previous one. She felt skeptical, at first. But after an extended persuasion from the Texan, she finally persisted and gave him the funds and the materials necessary for the brand new Living Room that he planned to build. But he wouldn't build it alone. He asked all of his teammates if they wanted to join in on the construction of their new Living Room. Surprisingly, every single one of them was willing to assist him. They went on to construct the new room for the entire weekend.

The RED mercenaries had been given specific tasks. Engineer had the responsibility of perfecting the blueprints and giving directions on how to use tools. Heavy and Bodyguard brought in the equipment and the materials needed for the construction: they had to walk in and out of the area with boxes in their hands. Scout, Assassin, Rocketeer, and Spy would be in charge of paint. Weatherman and Medic would take care of the electrical wiring. Sniper, Outlaw, and Femme Fatale would install the plumbing and other waterworks. Soldier, Demoman, and Pyro would help arrange the furniture.

On Friday morning, the RED team had to destroy two walls in the lounge after moving all the furniture out of the room. Soldier, Heavy, Weatherman, and Bodyguard used sledgehammers to tear down the walls. The rest of the team just watched, which didn't please Soldier very much.

"Why don't you do something constructive?"

Scout shrugged his shoulders. "We'd love to watch something on TV, but it's been unplugged. Don't you remember?"

Rocketeer gave a little grin when he said, "And besides, we can't do anything until you finish with the walls. We gotta do our jobs, you know."

Soldier murmured under his breath, "I'd stick this sledgehammer down your throat if I had the chance."

As they continued to tear down the walls, the cold outside air crept in. Bodyguard sneezed several times.

He remarked, "We_ must_ do something about the winter air."

Engineer brought out his electric heaters. "I got it covered."

After the destruction, Assassin asked about the debris on the floor. Pyro thought he had it covered as he brandished his flamethrower. Engineer and Sniper stopped him in the nick of time.

Engineer blurted, "You can't use that darn thing! You might burn this entire structure down."

Pyro asked, "Mmmhmmhmm-mmmrmmhmm?"

"It's simple, really. You just pick up the debris with your hands and put them in the trash bags."

Rocketeer raised his hands. "Count me out."

Outlaw raised his finger. "I will do it. I can do it very quickly."

Engineer smiled. "All right, now. I like someone who's willing to get himself dirty at the expense of making something clean."

Femme Fatale grabbed a trash bag. "I shall help you."

Outlaw shook his head. "That won't be necessary."

Femme Fatale smiled. "Think of it as a long-awaited favor."

As she began to pick up pieces of wood and metal from off the floor, Demoman whispered in Outlaw's ear, "You're one lucky bastard, you know."

Outlaw could only give him an inquisitive stare before joining the Sri Lankan woman with cleaning up the debris.

Meanwhile, Rocketeer asked Heavy, "Hey, why don't _you_ help them out?"

Heavy replied, "I must prepare for carrying large boxes. That is no job for a _baby man_."

Engineer almost laughed. "You just don't want to rip your pants again."

Heavy started to appear a bit more defiant when he said, "It has never happened before."

Spy chuckled. "I can never forget the time you tried to pick up a chocolate bar that dropped on the floor. It happened at least one year ago. You crouched down, and almost immediately we had all been exposed to your teddy bear boxer shorts."

Rocketeer and Assassin covered their mouth as they tried hard not to laugh.

Heavy's cheeks turned red. "Teddy bears keep me safe at night."

Soldier laid a hand on his shoulder and said, "Your childhood is over. It's time to for you to stop caring about bears and start _acting like one_."

When all the debris had been cleared, the room looked completely empty. Now, half of the room was gone.

Soldier asked Engineer, "So when's the cement truck going to arrive?"

Engineer grunted. "That's one problem that I couldn't solve. The truck's going to be here at eight o'clock."

Scout's eyes widened. "At night? You mean we're just gonna leave the room like this all afternoon?"

Engineer sighed. "It's the only thing we can do."

Assassin asked, "But what do we do in the meantime?"

"We'll just have to do something other than watch TV."

Outlaw commented, "We shouldn't leave the lounge unguarded."

Engineer snapped his fingers. "Yeah, you're right. Heavy, Bodyguard, you're in charge of looking after the construction site."

Bodyguard blurted, "You want us to stay here for eights hours?! Are you out of your Yankee Doodle mind?"

"We don't want any BLU spies lurking around and figuring out a way to use this new Living Room against us."

Rocketeer nodded. "He's got a point."

Heavy sighed. "This is going to be boring day."

* * *

Heavy and Bodyguard sat down and guarded the construction site while the other RED mercenaries made the most out of their afternoon. Since there were a few feet of snow in and around Barnblitz, they used it to their advantage. Scout, Assassin, Rocketeer acted like teenagers as they laughed and threw snowballs at each other. On a few occasions, Assassin and Rocketeer worked together to defeat Scout. On other occasions, Scout and Assassin worked together to take down Rocketeer. It was all in good fun.

Meanwhile, Weatherman turned on the radio and listened to music from The Rolling Stones. He wanted to sing along, but unlike Scout, Weatherman _knew_ that he couldn't sing.

Soldier, Demoman, Pyro, and Sniper played poker outside, despite the wintry air. Sniper noticed Pyro constantly wiping the eyeholes on his gas mask.

"They're fogging up, aren't they, mate?"

Pyro nodded.

Sniper remarked, "How about you take off your mask just for the day?"

Pyro yelled, "Mmmhmm! Mmmhmmmrgmmmr-mmmhmm!"

"Did you just say you want to eat Chow Mein?"

Pyro could only shake his head at that comment.

* * *

Outlaw found her in the middle of all the snow. Femme Fatale laid herself on the ground and moved her arms and legs. Outlaw could see that she made snow angels for the past few minutes. He could also see a heartfelt smile on her face.

He came up to her and said, "You're really enjoying yourself, aren't you?"

Femme Fatale sat up and chuckled. "Oh, Miguel. I never thought I would have this much fun with snow, especially considering how old I am."

"Being thirty-two years old doesn't mean that you should always act your age."

Femme Fatale lay back down. "Why don't you join me?"

"I don't think I should."

"Don't be afraid. Making snow angels can be such a relaxing experience."

"I am not afraid. I just might feel a little uncomfortable with our friends watching us."

"You shouldn't feel that way at all. Please, Miguel, do it for me."

Outlaw smiled. "You always know how to talk me into it."

Outlaw lay down beside her. They began to form snow angels together.

* * *

Heavy and Bodyguard sighed simultaneously as they still looked after the construction site.

Bodyguard asked, "Why couldn't Engineer just build a Sentry?"

Heavy waved a finger at him. "He can only build Sentry during confrontations with BLU. It is standard policy made by Administrator."

"As of this moment…life truly stinks."

The two of them watched from a distance as Scout, Assassin, and Rocketeer began to throw snowballs at Spy. The Frenchman laughed as he created his own snowball and threw it at Scout. All four of them ran away from the nearby construction site.

Bodyguard remarked, "They act like children. How unfortunate."

Heavy chuckled. "Fortunately, you and I stay as _big men_."

"You are correct, Boris. These 'baby men' are no match for us."

"We can squash them like bug."

"We can hurl them into the next county."

"We can stretch them like spaghetti."

"We can even ground their teeth and use them as salt for our soup."

Heavy whispered in Bodyguard's ear, "But what shall we use for our pizza?"

Both Heavy and Bodyguard gave out deafening belly laughs. They caught the attention of Sniper, who just happened to walk right past them. He kept quiet as he walked away, but not without a confused look on his face.

* * *

The sun had descended into the horizon. The late afternoon sky grew dim and gave off a bluish pinkish hue. Cumulus clouds had gathered, and now hovered right above Barnblitz. Outlaw and Femme Fatale viewed the sunset from the watchtower.

Femme Fatale remarked, "From where I come from, we rarely see a sunset that is as beautiful as this one. Our home always faced away from the west."

Outlaw chuckled. "I am assuming that you didn't enjoy watching sunrises."

"Of course, we didn't. I was always busy during that time. But now, look at this. It's so beautiful."

Outlaw stood closer beside Femme Fatale when he said, "It certainly is. I always like it when I see you in a happy mood.

"Tell me something, Miguel. Since we now know how RED and BLU work, would you rather stay here or return to Argentina?"

Outlaw didn't have to think about that one. "Perhaps I would be better off in my home country."

Femme Fatale's smile gave off a sly appearance. "You're being dishonest with me."

"I am not."

"I can hear it in your voice. You would rather stay _here_."

"I wasn't being dishonest. I thought of it as one of my two choices."

Femme Fatale laughed. "Tell me about your other choice."

Outlaw cleared his throat. "I would stay here with Mann Co., and stay with my teammates."

"That sounds more like the Outlaw that I know."

"Would you rather have me stay?"

"I wouldn't just wish it. I would see to it that it really happens."

"It seems strange that you would care so much about an Argentinian criminal."

"Should it be about the things that you've done in the past?"

Outlaw looked straight into her eyes. "I suppose not."

They stared at each other for quite some time, until Outlaw immediately looked away and stared at the setting sun. "It is going to be a fine evening, I'm sure."

He didn't see her smiling as she stared at the horizon with him. But he did feel her hand slowly touching his own. For brief second, he recollected the times he shared with Isabella, his former lover. He had never touched another woman after her untimely and grisly demise. When Femme Fatale grabbed hold of his hand, the most intimate memories returned. At this moment, he felt calm. Femme Fatale's compassion brought a sense of relief deep inside his inner self. Outlaw and Femme Fatale held each other's hands as they viewed the majestic west.

From down below, Sniper looked up and saw the two on the watchtower. He could see them holding hands and gazing at the sunset. They didn't see him, but he smiled and tipped his hat before walking away.

* * *

When night approached, the cement truck arrived. The driver parked the truck near the construction site. Soldier and Demoman helped Engineer pour the quick-drying cement in a wheelbarrow. Engineer began to mix the cement with a stick before pouring water in the wheelbarrow with a garden hose. The truck driver drove off.

Engineer took off his goggles. "Where the hell is he going?"

Soldier replied, "He's leaving Barnblitz. Miss Pauling says that he has a very hectic schedule."

Engineer frowned. "Oh, that's just great. I planned on using the cement mixer after this."

Demoman asked, "What happens now?"

Engineer kept on mixing. "This cement has to stay wet. Someone's gotta keep mixing for half an hour."

"You don't expect _us_ to do it, do you?"

"Where's everyone else?"

Soldier pointed at the barracks. "They're hearing Heavy tell stories about his childhood."

Engineer grunted. "That's just great. I can't mix this cement for the next thirty minutes. I haven't even eaten yet."

The three of them didn't expect Miss Pauling to arrive and inspect the construction of the Living Room. With a clipboard in her hands, she asked, "So how's the construction going?"

Engineer faked a smile. "We're doin' fine, Miss Pauling. Thanks for asking."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm mixing wet cement." And this is where the Engineer decided to turn dishonest. "My hands are already growing tired. Why don't you take over for awhile?"

"But what about your two friends over here?"

Soldier replied, "We haven't eaten since morning. We're going to the cafeteria to have some dinner. I think our little Engie friend should join us."

Engineer said, "Nah, I'll stay here with Miss Pauling. She can help me mix the cement."

Miss Pauling pointed at the cement. "It's not a very hard task, is it?"

Engineer revealed his clean teeth as he gave a smile. "All you have to do is mix the cement for half an hour. You could do it for a few minutes, while I finish it up alone."

He handed her the stick while she handed him the clipboard. She began to wave the stick around in the pile of wet cement. "Is this it?"

Engineer mouthed a few words to Soldier and Demoman, and pointed to Miss Pauling. Soldier and Demoman both nodded. They walked away and headed for the cafeteria. Engineer watched as Miss Pauling mixed the wet cement in the wheelbarrow.

He tiptoed backwards as he said, "All you have to do is move the stick back and forth, left and right."

"That sounds simple enough."

"Remember that this cement is very important. We need this for our new Living Room. It'd be pointless to build it without this cement."

"I know that. You don't have to inform me about the importance of a foundation."

"That's good."

Engineer quickly ran off. Miss Pauling kept on mixing the cement, not knowing that the Engineer had just abandoned her in the cold night.

"I'm sorry about the truck driver, but he _did_ have many other destinations for the night."

A lack of a response prompted her to turn around. Engineer, Soldier, and Demoman had disappeared. She was all alone in the construction site.

"Hey, where did you all run off to?! You can't just leave me here!"

The sounds of silence had been the only response that she received.

* * *

On Saturday morning, Engineer finished using the cement for the Living Room. The RED mercenaries would start positioning the new plywood and steel beams for the walls. But first, Engineer had to teach the younger teammates on how to use his custom-built power tools. It didn't seem completely successful. Scout and Assassin hurt their thumbs while trying to pound nails with their hammers. With a nail gun, Pyro accidentally launched a nail at Spy's foot. Spy had to be treated by Medic for half an hour. Nevertheless, everyone had gotten the hang of his power tools. They continued on with setting up the wood and steel beams for the walls. As Engineer and Weatherman used their acetylene torches to make certain adjustments on the steel beams, Assassin started to imagine where the windows should be situated on the new walls.

She asked Scout, "Where do you think the window should be?"

Scout sounded unenthusiastic. "Anywhere is fine by me."

Assassin rubbed her chin as she said, "I think we should have a window right in the center. That way, we'll be able to view the scenery."

Rocketeer also sounded unimpressed. "What scenery? All we would see outside is the BLU team trying to push the cart or something like that."

"Come on, guys. Be serious."

"We _are_ being serious. A window doesn't seem like a big deal."

"Well, I still think we should have one in the middle, or maybe two."

This sort of dilemma had caught Femme Fatale's attention. "It wouldn't look very good, Yvonne. We should have a window in the corner somewhere."

Assassin didn't like the sound of that. "Oh, please. It would just look out of place. It would be nicer if we had one in the center."

"But it would be so distracting. You would feel so insecure because of possible surveillance."

"Who cares about insecurity?"

"Well, certainly not _you_."

Scout and Rocketeer glanced at each other before walking away. Assassin and Femme Fatale began to sound more annoyed when their conversation slowly built up to a heated debate. Demoman folded his arms across his chest as Assassin and Femme Fatale's voices grew louder.

He whispered to Weatherman, "Do you mind if I use your acetylene torch?"

Weatherman looked at Demoman, and then at the two bickering women, and then back at Demoman. He shook his head and said, "I wouldn't want you to lose your paycheck."

Without even saying a word, Soldier pointed at Heavy and then at the two women. Heavy nodded and walked towards Assassin and Femme Fatale. The two of them couldn't finish their conversation because Heavy covered their mouths with his hands. He stayed still for the next few minutes as everyone else kept on working, completely ignoring the two women who struggled to escape from the Russian's grasp.

* * *

Just before noon, the RED mercenaries had finished putting up the walls and the rooftop. A large circular window had been placed on the ceiling. Smaller square-shaped windows had been planted on every wall of the Living Room. This seemed to have pleased both Assassin and Femme Fatale. Now all the mercenaries had to do was paint the walls. Everyone agreed that the color should be red, since obviously it would represent the _RED_ team. All the doors had been left open to take care of the smell of paint.

Everyone carried a brush and a can of red paint. Pyro seemed to have enjoyed painting the wall with red paint, because he hummed a strange tune while moving the paintbrush up and down. His teammates tried to ignore him.

Meanwhile, Bodyguard's hands started to ache after thirty minutes of nonstop painting. After a sigh of relief, he gave himself a break.

Heavy didn't stop using his paintbrush. "What is the matter, Nazir?"

"I am very tired, that's all."

Heavy appeared amused. "You must be very weak."

"I am not weak. I am fit just like you."

Heavy laughed. "But I am bigger, stronger, and taller than you."

"I am no different than you. I can lift up your Minigun and bench press it for fifteen minutes."

"You are no match for me!"

Bodyguard smiled. "Why don't you say that to the BLU Heavy whom I have slaughtered numerous times with my Scimitar?"

"Why don't you prove your worth? Use your fists."

"So you want a challenge?"

"I want challenge from desert man!"

The other mercenaries stopped what they were doing to see Heavy and Bodyguard revealing their fists.

Demoman yelled, "It's boxing time!"

Everyone gathered around Heavy and Bodyguard as they chanted them on. Spy lit a cigarette and stood nonchalantly. Medic laughed in a maniacal manner as he cheered Heavy on. Everyone else applauded as Heavy and Bodyguard began their fun confrontation. The two of them dodged fists and lunged with their own.

"Come on, Boris! Wreck him!"

"Take him down, Nazir!"

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

It was all in good fun. Heavy and Bodyguard laughed as they tried to take down each other. But it didn't last. Bodyguard began to frown as he felt weaker than before. He had to take quicker breaths to catch up with Heavy's aggression. He began to feel dizzy, and then he began to feel extreme agony in his chest. He stopped lunging at Heavy and fell to his knees. Everyone stopped cheering.

Heavy crouched down next to him and, in a sudden state of concern, asked, "What's the matter, Nazir?"

Bodyguard clutched his chest. "I think it's my heart. It's hurting so much."

Engineer blurted, "Oh, hell! He's havin' a heart attack!"

Medic rushed towards Bodyguard and said, "We must take you to the health center immediately!"

Bodyguard groaned as the pain in his chest grew more excruciating than before. Heavy raised him up and carried him on his shoulder. Medic led them out of the construction site and into the RED's health center. The other mercenaries followed them from behind.

* * *

Construction on the Living Room had been put on hold indefinitely. Medic tended to an ailing Bodyguard in his own personal clinic. Bodyguard lay on a bed. A tube for an IV had been injected into his arm. Medic told him to try and stay calm. The heart attack was immense, but with a little help from Mann Co.'s technology, Bodyguard didn't die right away. Medic tried hard to have him regain his full health. And because of what happened today, Bodyguard had to stay in bed for at least a few days or so.

As Bodyguard was being tended by Medic, four visitors had arrived. Soldier, Demoman, Engineer, and Sniper tried to comfort him.

Engineer asked, "How ya doin', buddy?"

The pain in Bodyguard's chest affected the volume of his voice. He whispered, "I still feel a bit awful."

Sniper remarked, "You're going to be okay. Ludwig knows what he's doing."

Medic gave a nod.

Bodyguard asked, "Where is Boris?"

Demoman cleared his throat. "He's a bit shaken up because of what happened."

"Tell me that I'm glad he won the fight."

"I don't think he should hear that right now."

Sniper agreed. "It would be better if you said that to him next week."

Bodyguard closed his eyes. "I just hope I make it back in time for the next Payload round."

Soldier declared, "You're a good man, Nazir. You've got to stay strong."

"I always will."

* * *

When they left the health center, the four visitors visited the cafeteria. They asked Leonard the chef for just four bottles of beer. They sat at one of the dining room tables.

After taking a long sip of beer, Demoman remarked, "It's been very rough today, lads."

Engineer nodded. "Yeah…but I'm sure Nazir will pull through."

Soldier chuckled. "He'll get better, and once he's out of that bed, he'll be able to give us some more Steroids."

Demoman smiled. "The exhilaration will soon return."

All this time, Sniper held a blank expression as he sat there with the beer bottle in his hand. But when his teammates started to joke about Bodyguard's recovery, he couldn't take it any longer.

He commented, "I really wish all you mates would stop cracking jokes."

Engineer could see the frustration on his face. "It's the best we can do for now. Sometimes, you just gotta relieve yourself by adding in a little humor now and then."

Sniper sighed. "I don't see it that way."

"Well, I'm sorry if you don't."

"I'm trying to make a point. Our friend almost died, and all you're doing is impersonating bad comedians."

Demoman said, "Calm down, lad. We're not at all heartless thugs."

"I still wish you would at least take this seriously."

"We _are_."

"You all have a funny way of showing it."

Soldier asked, "What's the matter?"

Sniper stood up from his chair. "Didn't you listen, mate?! The Bodyguard is trying to recover, and you're not helping the situation at all."

Engineer raised a hand. "Calm down, will ya?"

"I'm calm!"

Sniper walked away and left the cafeteria.

Demoman felt a bit puzzled. "What's the matter with _him_?"

Engineer gave him a baffled glance. "Isn't it obvious?"

Soldier put his helmet back on. "Maybe we should have a little chat with him."

Engineer shook his head. "I don't think this is the right time to ask about his bad mood."

* * *

The next day, construction on the Living Room had continued. However, production slowed because of three absent mercenaries: Medic, Bodyguard, and Sniper. Everyone started to arrange new furniture and install electronic devices.

Weatherman and Engineer took care of the electrical wiring, since Medic had to tend to Bodyguard. During the arrangement of the new wires, Weatherman asked, "Have you seen the Sniper lately?"

Engineer replied, "I haven't seen him since breakfast. Why?"

"He didn't get hurt or anything. I wonder why he's not helping us."

"I think it's because Nazir's heart attack had a real big impact on him."

"But he's only known the guy for at least six months."

"Hey, he cares a lot about all of us. He can be very quiet and isolated at times, but he knows his compassion."

Demoman joined in on the conversation. "You're right. But there's something a _wee_ bit off about him."

"What is that?"

"I talked to the others, and they say that when they tried to talk to him about something, he just wanders off and disappears."

"And this happened this morning?"

Demoman nodded.

Weatherman scratched his head. "Hasn't that ever happened before?"

Engineer replied, "It only happened very rarely. Something must be bothering him."

Demoman whispered, "I say we find him and ask him about it."

"We should have done that last night."

* * *

In the late afternoon, everyone had been given a break from the construction. Heavy decided to visit Medic's clinic to see how his new friend progressed. Bodyguard still lay on the bed. Medic held a clipboard in his hand and wrote something on a piece of paper.

Heavy revealed himself in the room. Bodyguard gave a little grin. "It is nice to see you, my good friend."

Heavy asked Medic, "How is he, doctor?"

Medic replied, "He will live. He's getting better. He might leave this room on Wednesday."

"It is good news."

Heavy stood next to the bed and said to Bodyguard, "You are doing fine, Nazir."

Bodyguard stated, "I am staying strong."

"I am so sorry about what I said to you."

"What did you say?"

"I said that you're no match for me. I said that you were weak. I can see now that you are strong."

"But you are right: I am no match for you. I respect you for your lifelong strength and your complete devotion to this cause."

"And I respect you for staying courageous during such a horrifying event in your life. I would fear death if it happened to me. You are much braver than me, Nazir."

"Thank you, Boris."

They shook each other's hand. Heavy murmured, "You will survive this."

"We both know I will."

* * *

Demoman and Engineer saw him up on the watchtower. They climbed up the long ladder and found Sniper staring through binoculars.

Engineer asked, "Did Administrator issue a confrontation today?"

Sniper lowered his binoculars and said, "I'm just looking out for intruders in general."

Demoman raised an eyebrow. "Nobody knows about this bloody place but us and the Administrator."

Sniper gave out a long sigh. "I'd like some peace and quiet if you don't mind."

He stared through the binoculars again.

Engineer took off his helmet and his goggles. He laid them on the floor as he asked, "What's going on, Sniper?"

"What do you mean?"

"Ever since Nazir's heart attack, you've isolated yourself. I can expect that from you, but you've been trying to avoid complete communication. What's going on?"

Sniper looked away. "It's something personal."

"We could always talk about it. We'd like to know what's bothering you because we care about you."

Demoman nodded. "We're all good friends 'till the end."

Sniper chuckled. "Yes…we really are."

Engineer leaned against the banister and folded his arms across his chest. "Nazir's heart attack really terrified you, didn't it?"

Sniper put away his binoculars. "I know he's a new recruit, but…he's already like a brother to me. And despite his really questionable cuisines, he's a good person inside and out. I feel like we've all connected with each other. Scout is really getting along with Assassin and Rocketeer. Weatherman is becoming a real good friend to you." He pointed at Engineer. "And Heavy is now more of a brother to Bodyguard. It's as though the family is complete."

"It's natural, you know."

"It is…but I don't like it when bad things happen to any of us. I _don't like_ losing a close friend, especially when it's unexpected. It hurts me so much when I realize that they're being taken away from me without any reason whatsoever."

"It happens to us all the time."

"I found that out the hard way."

"What happened?"

Sniper took of his hat and dropped it on the floor. "I never told this to anyone here. I had a younger sister named Sarah. When I attended middle school, I had to help her with her schoolwork. She always struggled with math and science. She had trouble memorizing scientific terms, and she couldn't figure out math problems on her own. But she tried to fight through it. She never gave up, and I admired her for her perseverance. We always got along. She and I rode our bicycles together. Whenever someone teased her, I told the bully to piss off. I didn't want anything bad to happen to her.

"And much to my surprise, something did. When I was fifteen years old, Sarah had just turned thirteen, and she had to visit the doctor because she didn't feel very well. The doctor had a private conversation with our parents. This didn't sound very pleasing to Sarah, but I assured her that it probably won't be anything big. I was wrong. My parents had found out that Sarah had a brain tumor. It would probably explain why she wasn't doing well in school for such a long time. When she and I found out about it, Sarah was scared. She had to be examined in the hospital. She had to stay in that building for two weeks. I had to tell her that she would do fine, even if I couldn't believe it.

"When she stayed in the hospital, she grew worse…much worse. Her vocabulary became jumbled, and she couldn't stand up straight. A few days later, she had to be fed with a tube. When my parents and I visited her, she looked like a complete wreck. When she tried to say something, it sounded as if it was an alien language. I couldn't believe that it would lead to this. I kept telling her that everything would be okay, but she just said nothing but babble. That would be the last memory I have of her. My parents and I left the hospital, and two days later, she died. The doctors tried to revive her, but it was too late. She was so young, and yet she felt unbearable pain before her untimely demise. When I heard that she died, I felt so crushed. I felt so angry. I wanted to curse my family. I wanted to tear things apart. I wanted to know why _she_ was the one to go instead of _me_."

At that point, Sniper's eyes grew watery.

"I didn't want something like this to happen again. I didn't want death to get in the way of those I love the most. And when Nazir had a heart attack, I didn't want him to leave us."

Engineer remarked, "It's a good thing that he'll live."

"…We can be certain of it."

"I'm sorry to hear about Sarah."

Sniper sighed. "I miss her so much. I could only imagine where she would be in life if she didn't have the sickness."

Engineer laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm pretty sure she would have a good life."

Sniper smiled. "I'd think so, too."

He put his hat back on his head. "I'm going to get myself some coffee. Want to join me?"

"Sure, why not?"

Sniper, Engineer, and Demoman left the watchtower and headed for the cafeteria.

* * *

Construction on the Living Room had finally been completed. After long arduous hours of building walls and arranging new furniture, the RED mercenaries felt pleased with the final result. The room had been officially named the RED Room. Bodyguard still had to stay in Medic's clinic. Medic stayed with him, so the two of them were unable to see the finished building. Miss Pauling paid the mercenaries a visit to see what the RED Room looked like. Soldier, Demoman, and Engineer happily gave her the tour.

The RED Room consisted of several rooms. First, they showed Miss Pauling the _TV room_. They presented the TV set that was five feet tall and five feet wide. Three rows of brand new sofas stood in front of it. The armrests had holes for drinks and snacks. The remote control had been attached to the armrests so that no one would bother to get off the sofa and search for the remote.

Then, they showed her the gigantic _game room_. It featured the original poker table, a foosball set, a basketball hoop, and a personal bowling alley situated in the corner.

Next up came the _fitness center_. It had everything: treadmills, exercise bikes, stacks of dumbbells, bench presses, and even a small shower for those long hours of exhaustion.

Finally, the three mercenaries showed her the _snack bar_. Situated right next to the TV room, it had become a favorite of Engineer's. He had been the one who chose the wide selection of foods. He put in a beverage bar on one side, and a snack bar on the other. The snack bar included a mesquite BBQ grill, which would be a great place for bacon and baby back ribs. The room also included a miniature refrigerator which would hold TV dinners and glass bottles of Silver Dollar Cola.

When the tour ended, Miss Pauling looked impressed when she said, "You guys have done a superb job with this new Living Room."

Engineer chuckled. "We call it the _RED Room_ from now on."

Miss Pauling nodded. "It certainly has a nice ring to it."

Demoman sighed in a gleeful manner. "I cannot wait to use it."

"Well, it might take a long while. The Administrator still isn't finished with her business affairs."

All of a sudden, the Administrator's voice blared through the PA system. "_Mission begins in ten minutes_."

Soldier sighed in an exhausted manner. "Ah, well. At least the RED Room is finished."

Miss Pauling watched as Soldier, Demoman, and Engineer raced toward the barracks.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	40. SS - How to Get What You Want

SHORT STORY

How to Get What You Want

January, 1969

Today had been a typical day for Miss Pauling. She informed the Administrator of updates concerning the battles in Barnblitz. She also made sure if the RED and BLU mercenaries stayed ignorant and barbaric for their endless confrontations. After her meeting with the Administrator, she left the control room and went back outside. Miss Pauling was about to check on the mercenaries for their weekly inspections until she bumped into the Messenger.

He handed her an enclosed envelope and whispered in her ear, "Don't say anything to the Administrator about this."

Miss Pauling gave an inquisitive glance. "Why should I keep this a secret?"

"This is from her newest rival."

The Messenger walked away in silence, leaving Miss Pauling to ponder whether she should inform the Administrator about Nathaniel Ingram's letter. She hesitated, however, as she opened up the envelope and unfolded the piece of paper inside it. She read the letter. It read that Mr. Ingram wanted to meet with her at approximately ten o'clock, right outside of Barnblitz. She folded the piece of paper again. Almost immediately, she wanted to know why Ingram wanted to see her. She grew cautious. She rushed to her room and loaded her revolver with six rounds. She hid it in her jacket. She put on some warmer clothing (jacket, gloves, and snow hat) before she walked outside. She opened the front gate and closed it.

Miss Pauling walked away from Barnblitz and headed for the empty street which was at least several hundred yards away. When she stopped at the side of the street, she looked both ways. She couldn't spot any headlights coming her way. She gave a long sigh. The cold winter night didn't do much to ease her anxiety. The snow that fell from the sky felt light on her head and jacket. The one street light that stood beside her reminded her of natural solitude as she stood in the middle of the light. The rest of the surroundings had been shrouded in complete darkness, all except for Mann's terrain.

Miss Pauling waited in the middle of winter's routine for a few more minutes. She grew cold and tired. But she didn't concentrate on that. She wanted to know why Ingram wanted to see her. Perhaps he had a proposition for her, or something of that sort.

"Want some?"

The unexpected voice that came from behind caused Miss Pauling to quickly turn around and see the man in the flesh. She saw Nathaniel Ingram holding a thermos in his hand. He wore his own jacket, gloves, and hat. Miss Pauling had never seen Ingram before, but she could see now that he looked like the charismatic businessman that Administrator had described.

She stared at the thermos with caution. Ingram asked, "Aren't you aware of my kindness?"

She asked him, "How do I know that it's not poisonous?"

"Because I drank some of it. If I did put poison in this coffee, I'd be having seizures."

"I'm not thirsty."

Ingram shrugged his shoulders. "If you die from the cold, then you shouldn't blame me for it."

Miss Pauling looked around, and couldn't see anyone else with him. The two of them were alone on the side of the street, in the dark of the bitter night.

"What brings you here?"

Ingram smiled. "How much do you know about me?"

"All I know is that you once worked with Helen Walsh, and that you now run your own corporation."

"Did she tell you about my proposal?"

"Yes, she did. I think I should give you credit for being this courageous. No one would dare take TF Industries away from those who founded it."

"Maybe I should receive an award for just taking this sort of risk."

Miss Pauling remained cautious. "Why do you want to see me?"

Ingram narrowed his eyes while still giving a devious grin. "I want you to help me get what I want."

"How are you going to do _that_?"

"I'm going to take the Administrator's mercenaries away from her. You know what would happen next."

"I think I do."

She thought long and hard about it. If Ingram stole the mercenaries away from both RED and BLU, then the confrontations between Blutarch and Redmond would end. There would be no way of determining which brother would gain the victory. There would be no way of receiving more volunteers and more revenue because of a permanent stalemate. And because of Blutarch and Redmond's complete lack of leadership at such an old age, the Administrator would have no choice but to hand TF Industries to her primary competitor.

"But I don't understand. How would you get what you want if you just take the mercenaries away from us?"

"That's just the beginning. I want these mercenaries to work for me. Then, I'll publicize the conflicts between the Mann Brothers. I already have friends who work for TIME and Newsweek. If this war goes national, the American people will understand what the Mann Brothers have been fighting for all this time. You will receive backlash from everyone in the country. Your reputation would be tainted with ludicrous notoriety. Everyone would approve of my decision to buy the company if I expose the Administrator for who she really is: a tired old bitch. Imagine the scenario, Miss Pauling. A charismatic man like me wants to take something from an old heartless woman like her. Who do you think will gain positive feedback?"

"You must have planned this out for a very long time."

"Isn't it obvious?"

"But what does this have to do with _me_?"

Ingram gave an iniquitous stare. "You're going to tell me everything there is to know about these mercenaries, from the Bostonian to the Saudi Arabian. I already have files containing their information, but I do believe that it's not enough. I think you know some of their deepest darkest secrets. I want to know all of them. Furthermore, if there are some details that you've been missing, you're going to help me plant surveillance all around Mann territory. It's obvious that they don't trust you on sharing secrets, so there is a chance that I might hear of their hidden truths when they don't suspect a secret observation."

"Is there a point to all of this?"

"Yes, there is. When the truth is exposed, I will either grant these mercenaries amnesty or blackmail. I might even bribe those who don't even have a troubled past."

"Why should I help you get what you want?"

Ingram smiled again. "Because I might grant _you_ amnesty for what you've done in the past."

Miss Pauling stood still. Ingram had obviously struck a chord.

"I know all about you, too. You used to live in Philadelphia, didn't you?"

"...Yes, I did."

"You were once married to a man from Norway, didn't you? What was his name?"

Ingram snapped his fingers. "Ah, yes. Steven Haskins...or more commonly known as Rolf Marcussen. Isn't that his real name?"

Miss Pauling gave a slow nod. His sarcasm made the situation even worse.

Ingram murmured, "Don't try to hide it. I know all about him. I know what he does for a living. If you ever get caught by the Feds, you'll get life imprisonment because of what he's done. So here's what I'll offer you. I'm going to give you complete amnesty. I'll clear your name in the Most Wanted list. I have friends who would get the job done with no harm done."

"You would go that far to take over TF Industries?"

"This would be a good thing to you."

"I've dedicated myself to supervise the entire group of mercenaries."

"You could still do the same thing as long as you cooperate with me for the next few months. Would you rather spend the rest of your life in prison?"

"I can't betray the Administrator. It's against my most basic principles."

"But you can revel in your newfound salvation."

For once, Miss Pauling tried to tackle a crisis of conscience.

Ingram whispered in her ear, "I never said this would be easy."

She gave him a quizzical stare. She finally asked, "What do I have to do?"

* * *

When her secret meeting with Nathaniel Ingram ended, she walked back into Barnblitz. She couldn't wait to get back into her room so she could curse herself for betraying the Administrator. Near the RED barracks, she found Weatherman walking in the snow. They began to notice each other.

Weatherman walked towards her and asked, "What are you doing out here so late?"

"I'd like to ask the same question myself."

"I'm just finishing up crafting a new weapon for my arsenal."

Miss Pauling tried to hide her frustration when she said, "Well, good for you."

"Where did you go?"

"I just went out."

"In the freezing cold?"

"It's a long story. You wouldn't want to be interested, anyway."

"You should walk back to where it's warm."

"I'm planning on it."

Miss Pauling didn't say another word as she headed back inside. Weatherman felt rather curious at her verbal aggravation. She sounded almost frustrated. Weatherman believed it to be because of the cold, but deep inside, he still wanted to know why Miss Pauling had gone outside alone.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	41. SS - Trading Classes

Note: This chapter was partially inspired by the Randomizer mod that has been released for TF2. It is also inspired by an episode of _I Love Lucy_, where Lucy and Ethel work at a chocolate factory while Ricky and Fred take care of the apartment.

* * *

SHORT STORY

Trading Classes

* * *

February, 1969

It seemed like a typical day at Barnblitz for the Administrator, but Miss Pauling saw it all a little more differently. After her private discussion with Nathaniel Ingram, she tried hard to keep quiet as Administrator kept her eyes on the big monitor in front of her. They were in the control room, and they watched as the BLU team constantly pushed the cart toward its destination. The RED team didn't have a chance to stop the cart all day. The BLU team remained victorious for several hours.

The Administrator chuckled, "Blutarch would be proud of this moment."

Miss Pauling tried to laugh, but she couldn't. "He must be really close to defeating Redmond."

"Now is not the time to state the obvious."

"How would be stop this?"

"The RED team must find an alternative. I've noticed the repetitive strategies that they have used for many years. Now, it is time for them to use their open-mindedness once more."

Miss Pauling tried to concentrate on the battle that took place on the screen, but she couldn't stop thinking about Mr. Ingram's proposition. Then, she stared at the Administrator, who sat right behind her. Miss Pauling couldn't stop wondering if complete amnesty was worth it.

* * *

The battles ended for the day. Both BLU and RED teams returned to their barracks. Members of BLU felt satisfied for their endless victory. RED felt something else. They had to fight through the rage that continued to break their spirits. The cart had reached its destination approximately forty times today, and RED tried so hard to push it away. But they failed numerous times. Soldier, in particular, wanted to know what went horribly wrong.

As he reorganized his locker, he said, "There's yet another killing spree...BY THE OTHER TEAM!"

Bodyguard sat on the bench in exhaustion. "I don't understand it. Even with my Ruby Talisman, we still weren't capable of winning a single round."

Demoman grunted. "I blame the bloody Outlaw for this. His Sticks of Dynamite aren't big enough."

Outlaw narrowed his eyes. "Don't make me the scapegoat. I think we have good reason to suspect that the Pyro didn't do his job."

Pyro shouted, "Mmmhmm!"

"Oh, be silent."

Meanwhile, Scout couldn't wait to exit the barracks. He joined Assassin and Rocketeer as they headed for the cafeteria for tonight's dinner. They walked across a few feet of snow as the sun began to set in the horizon.

Rocketeer wiped his sunglasses as he said, "Maybe I should consider early retirement."

Scout sighed. "Now's not the time to make some freakin' jokes, man. We just got pounded all day."

Assassin asked, "What went wrong?"

"I'll tell ya what went wrong. We couldn't get stop the BLU team from pushing that freakin' cart because _someone_ couldn't put up a teleporter in time."

"I heard that!"

Scout, Assassin, and Rocketeer turned their heads to see Engineer and Demoman walking alongside each other.

With a frown on his face, Engineer replied, "Darn spies kept destroying my teleporters."

Scout shook his head. "There ain't no room for excuses, man. You had to look out for your stuff."

Engineer stopped walking and stood a few feet in front of Scout. Assassin, Rocketeer, and Demoman stopped and gathered around the two.

Engineer took off his goggles and said, "Listen, boy, it takes a whole lot of time and work to build what's needed for the battlefield. I know dispensers and teleporters are important, but it's not as simple as you think."

Scout chuckled. "Come on, man. _Anybody_ can build a dispenser."

"Yeah, anybody with a high IQ and strong hands can build one."

Rocketeer could feel his stomach growling. "Guys, can you discuss this later? I haven't eaten anything since breakfast."

Demoman grunted. "Oh, that might explain why I haven't seen you fly around the entire bloody place."

Rocketeer folded his arms across his chest. "What do you mean by that?"

"You barely used your Jetpack today."

"That's because the batteries were dead by the afternoon. I didn't have time to change them because of what's been happening on the battlefield."

"It shouldn't be so hard, lad. All you have to do is switch them in five seconds. You would have to be drunk as a crazed sailor if you can't even tell the difference between a new battery and a dead one."

Rocketeer suddenly felt amused. "Look who's talking about drunkenness, Mr. Alcohol. All you've been doing is drink an entire bottle of liquor and use your Grenade Launcher."

"Aye, it's my job to take care of those BLU brigands with grenades."

"Oh, _anybody_ can use a Grenade Launcher."

Scout added, "Yeah, and _anybody_ can build a dispenser in just a few seconds."

Engineer blurted, "Don't start that again!"

Assassin tried to say something, but she was left out.

"You know what I think?" Heavy's sudden arrival almost caught the others off-guard. "I think it is Spy's fault. I don't think he could kill enough BLU baby men in time."

Engineer rubbed his chin. "Maybe you're right. Why don't we have a little chat with him during dinner?"

But none of the RED mercenaries felt like eating any dinner at this time. All of them gathered in the cafeteria and gradually argued about their mistakes in the battlefield. Leonard and the rest of the chefs could only stand around in the kitchen and watch as the heated debates went on for at least half an hour. Scout argued with Engineer, while Weatherman argued with Bodyguard. Spy criticized Medic for not healing their teammates in time, while Soldier accused Spy for not handling his disguises correctly. The arguments went on for another hour, until the Administrator and Miss Pauling opened the front door and revealed themselves to Mann's employees.

Sniper stopped arguing and shouted, "Good evening, madam!"

Everyone else grew silent and stared at the Administrator, who shook her head.

"What a pity. The BLU team remains victorious for the day and all you can do is feel ashamed of yourselves."

Spy asked, "What can you expect after such humiliating battles?"

Scout pointed his finger at Engineer as he said, "It's this guy's fault."

Engineer blurted, "Heck, no! I blame the Sniper."

Sniper yelled, "Oh, shut up!"

Almost immediately, the RED mercenaries yelled at each other again. Miss Pauling had to use a whistle to calm everyone down yet again.

Administrator stated, "Calm yourselves, ladies and gentlemen. This cafeteria is not immune to rage."

Assassin folded her arms across her chest. "Then what do you suggest we do? Gather around a campfire and sing 'This Little Light of Mine'?"

"That would be a good idea, but first I would like to know why you're having such a heated debate in such a place."

Engineer replied, "We're just trying to figure out why everything went wrong for us today."

Scout murmured something under his breath. Engineer asked, "What did you say?"

"I said that you should stop lying around the entire base."

"And what makes you think I do such a thing?"

"All you do is build stuff, and that's it. You hardly ever join the rest of us in the battlefield."

"Don't judge me too poorly, son. Like I said, it takes a lot of hard work building sentries, dispensers, and teleporters."

"It sounds pretty easy when you say it like that."

Engineer chuckled. "I'd like to see you try it once."

"You'd really like to see that, wouldn't ya?"

"I bet you wouldn't even know how to use one of my monkey wrenches. There are special requirements for this type of work."

"I'll prove it to ya. Let me build one dispenser."

"I'll let you do it tomorrow. Hell, I'll let you use my tools for the entire day."

Scout smiled. "All right, fine. But then, you gotta use my Scattergun for the entire day."

"I know how to use a shotgun, so it's gonna be a hell of a piece of cake."

Administrator gave a half grin as she thought to herself, "This could become an interesting idea."

Demoman licked his lips before saying, "That's a bloody good idea, Engineer."

Rocketeer added, "Yeah, I'd like to see the Scout build a teleporter for us."

Demoman turned and said to Rocketeer, "I'd like to see _you_ try it."

Rocketeer raised a finger. "How about this? You use my Jetpack for an entire day. You'll see it's more than just flying."

"Now you're talkin' sense, lad."

The rest of the RED mercenaries began to see this as a good idea. Everyone decided to switch weapons and act as the class that they had been newly assigned. Administrator remarked, "Then it is done. All of you are now given different assignments for the next Payload confrontations tomorrow. We shall see if you will do your new jobs well."

She left the cafeteria, with Miss Pauling following from behind.

Engineer remarked, "So it's settled. We all have different weapons for tomorrow. Now, let's eat."

Rocketeer sighed. "Thank God. Let's have some cheeseburgers."

* * *

And they did agree to switch their weapons the next day. As they prepared for the first round, Scout handed his Force-A-Nature, his can of BONK Atomic Punch, and his Baseball Bat to Engineer. Engineer handed him his Wrench, his toolbox, his shotgun & pistol, and the blueprints for the teleporter/dispenser/sentry.

They shook hands as Engineer said, "May the best Engie win."

Meanwhile, Outlaw traded his Pistol, his Sticks of Dynamite, his Executioner bomb, and his Cattle Prod for Femme Fatale's AK-47, Pistol, Flash Grenade, Straight Razor, and Grappling Hook.

Femme Fatale smiled as she said, "Let us see if we can truly prove ourselves."

"_Mission begins in ten minutes_."

Soldier examined the Disguise Kit that Spy handed to him. "Explain to me how I should disguise myself."

Spy stomped on his cigarette and said, "As you can see, there are many numbers on the device. You have to have the correct password to start up the kit. The number is 458683. And then, you have to have the correct passwords in order to activate certain disguises. The password to actually start activating the disguises is 209188. To disguise as BLU Scout, it is 988588. To disguise as BLU Soldier, it is 773533. For BLU Rocketeer, it is 622422. For BLU Assassin, it is 599299. For Pyro, it is 100500. For Outlaw, it is 377677. For Demoman, it is 112322. For Heavy, it is 700400. For Weatherman, it is 544944. For Engineer, it is 255755. For Medic, it is 006886. For Sniper, it is 441991. For Femme Fatale, it is 300800. For Spy, it is 775225. And for Bodyguard, it is 288988. In order to change from one disguise to the next, you have to press 558327 to confirm authorization. In order to turn on the disguise kit again right after backstabbing an enemy, you have to press 5 and wait for three seconds before pressing both 6 and 8 at the same time. Are you following me so far?"

Soldier conveyed a blank stare. After a few seconds of silence, he asked, "Can you write them down for me _please_?"

Meanwhile, Assassin gave one look at Heavy's Minigun and scratched her head. She tried to lift it up off the ground, but she couldn't.

She asked Heavy, "How can you pick this up?"

Heavy laughed. "This weapon is only for big men."

Assassin faked a smile. "Yeah, sure."

She tried hard to pick it up again. But the Minigun didn't even move a centimeter.

"_Mission begins in five minutes_."

Pyro had Sniper's vintage Sniper Rifle in his hand. He examined the weight, and found it moderately light. But then, he found the Jarate and almost wanted to throw up.

Demoman had some trouble strapping on Rocketeer's Jetpack. He had to figure out which belt should be connected to which strap. Rocketeer would have helped, but he just stood there smiling. Demoman tried to ignore the amused look on the Californian's face.

Heavy had a wonderful time swinging Demoman's Eyelander sword. It almost made him feel a little childish.

"_Mission begins in sixty seconds_."

The RED team exited the barracks and headed for BLU territory. Assassin, however, still couldn't get out of the barracks because she still couldn't carry the Minigun. The other RED mercenaries prepared themselves as they reached the BLU side of Barnblitz. The gates were still closed.

Pyro tried to see through the scope of the Sniper Rifle, but his gas mask got in the way. He tried hard to look through the scope to get a clear shot of someone's head. He whispered a few curses as he couldn't get over his blurred vision.

Scout found this to be the right time to build a sentry. He unrolled the blueprints, but he felt amazed at what was found on them.

"Wow...these are some interesting blueprints."

But Scout didn't stop because he wanted to prove himself. He began to build his first sentry. With a wrench in his hand, he brought out the parts needed for such a weapon. But he stopped when he tried to find out which parts he had to assemble first. He looked at the nuts and bolts, and then at the screws.

"I really hope the instructions are in English."

"_Mission begins in thirty seconds_."

Heavy tried to use the Scottish Resistance, but his index finger was too big for the trigger.

Spy used the Quick Fix on Soldier, who still tried to figure out the passwords for the Disguise Kit.

Rocketeer kept his finger on the Lightning Launcher while holding a Mutant Snowball in his other hand.

Outlaw and Femme Fatale stood close together: an AK-47 in his own hand, and a Stick of Dynamite in her own hand.

Weatherman kept a Bottle of Steroids in his pocket and kept the Ruby Talisman hung around his neck.

Medic felt almost maniacal as he held Dual Pistols.

Sniper felt uneasy as he held the Black Box tightly in his hands.

Bodyguard couldn't wait to use the Flamethrower against his opponents.

"_Mission begins in twenty seconds_."

Engineer stared at the BONK Atomic Punch that he held in his hand. In actuality, he had never drunk anything that belonged to Scout.

"It never hurts to try something new."

Engineer popped open the lid and took a sip. He waited a few seconds for a possibly strong reaction. He never expected it to be so odd. His eyes widened as the atomic punch took control of his entire body. He began to dance wildly as he chanted unknown words loudly. His teammates gazed at his strange movements before turning back to the battle zone. Engineer continued to move from one place to another at a quickened pace.

"_Mission begins in ten seconds_."

Scout started to fume. "Give me some more time, will ya?!"

He was still in the middle of making his own sentry. He tried to understand the importance of putting which nuts into which bolts.

"_Five...four...three...two...one..._"

The gates opened.

Rocketeer pulled the trigger on the Lightning Launcher, but the instant potency of the weapon forced him to fly backwards and crash into a wall. The bolt of lightning barely missed a BLU Heavy.

Soldier used the Invisibility Watch to turn invisible, but he still tried to disguise himself as an opponent. He just had to remember the specific password for it.

Demoman turned on the Jetpack and flew several feet into the air. He had trouble going the direction that he wanted, though. He flew side to side as he tried to control the Jetpack.

Engineer was still in the middle of a strange dance. He continued to chant useless babble.

The BLU Team had already pushed the cart and was now on its way to RED's side.

Assassin barely exited the RED barracks as she dragged the Minigun across the floor.

Bodyguard charged with the Flamethrower in his hand. He gave a very iniquitous smile as he set a BLU Sniper and a BLU Spy on fire. He gave a maniacal laugh as he didn't let go of the trigger.

Scout's sentry fell apart. He blurted, "Ah, Jeez!"

He abandoned the project and moved on to constructing a dispenser.

Meanwhile, Demoman kept flying in the air. This time, he circled around and around. He tried to control the Jetpack, but it was no use. He flew right into a wall, screaming. He crashed into it and fell to the floor, unconscious.

Heavy still couldn't pull the trigger to the Scottish Resistance. He shook the entire weapon with his hands. Unfortunately, one grenade fell out of the barrel and landed near Heavy's foot.

"Oh, this is bad!"

The grenade exploded. Heavy's face and clothes were smeared with black.

The cart already made it halfway through the entire region.

Assassin had a much harder time dragging the Minigun across the snow.

Spy had trouble keeping up with his teammates as he used the Quick Fix. Nearly half of them cried out for a medic. Spy tried to fight through the pressure as he healed them one at a time. At one point, Scout asked for some healing as he raced across the snowy terrain. Spy turned on the Quick Fix and followed the Scout as he raced away. Spy had a bit of trouble keeping balance as he ran as fast as the Scout.

He asked, "Where the hell are you going?"

Scout yelled, "I need to find some freakin' metal, man!"

"You better slow down!"

"I can't do that! I gotta build that dispenser as fast as possible."

"I think I'm going to trip!"

"Just don't give up on me, man!"

Within seconds, Spy accidentally ran into a pole and was knocked cold.

Bodyguard transformed into a complete maniac as he couldn't let go of the Flamethrower. He began to spew fire in random directions, laughing. He didn't even concentrate on his adversaries. He just used the Flamethrower for the hell of it.

Femme Fatale tried to use the lighter for the Executioner bomb, but it could only flicker. Heavy, who wiped his face with his hands, noticed her struggling to light the bomb. He asked if he could try to use the lighter. Femme Fatale handed him Outlaw's pistol and watched as Heavy finally managed to produce a small fire. He lit the Executioner bomb and handed it back to Femme Fatale. She grew too tense and threw the Executioner in fear. She and Heavy ran away as the Executioner exploded. The only casualty was the small log cabin that stood right beside it.

Scout looked like he finally managed to finish the dispenser for the team. Unfortunately, it didn't look quite right. It looked like a car battery the size of a coffee table. And as a result, it didn't work. Scout cursed as he angrily threw the wrench on the floor.

Sniper was about to use the Buff Banner. Unfortunately, the BLU team had pushed the cart to its intended destination.

"_The RED team has failed!_"

* * *

This sort of situation had repeated for the rest of the day.

The RED team had lost every round once again. When they left the barracks, they headed for the cafeteria, exhausted. Once inside, they didn't order just yet.

Scout handed the wrench back to Engineer and said, "You should keep building dispensers. You're much better at it than me."

Engineer replied, "Well, I didn't fare much better with your Atomic Punch...but it felt very interesting for a while."

He handed the Force-A-Nature and the Baseball Bat back to Scout.

Everyone else switched back their weapons. Bodyguard, however, still kept the Flamethrower in his lap. He had a crazed look on his face as Pyro tried to take it back.

Medic whispered to Pyro, "Why don't you wait for a few days until he settles his nerves?"

Rocketeer asked Assassin, "How are your arms?"

She replied, "They're getting better. I think I just got a good exercise when I dragged that damn thing."

Demoman handed the Jetpack back to Rocketeer and said, "You're a fine lad with this sort of thing."

"Thanks, buddy."

Engineer proclaimed, "Let's forget about switching weapons, guys. Let's just be ourselves for the rest of our lives."

Sniper nodded. "That's a good idea, mate."

Everyone apologized to each other for doubting their abilities. They began to order food for dinner.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	42. SS - Demoman vs Hollywood

SHORT STORY

Demoman vs. Hollywood

* * *

February, 1969

A Friday night in Barnblitz would have been a bit of a bore if Engineer didn't have the bright idea of installing the RED Rooms. Thanks to his latest creation, the RED mercenaries would now have the chance of having a little more fun. In the TV Room, several teammates had the chance of watching _Gone with the Wind_ in its entirety. Scout, Assassin, Rocketeer, Pyro, Demoman, Sniper, and Femme Fatale sat on the sofas and watched as Rhett was about to leave Scarlett during the film's climax. Rocketeer constantly glared at his sister, the Assassin, whose eyes began to look watery.

He whispered in her ear, "Please try to fight it!"

Scout, who sat next to Assassin, gave a devious half smile. "Oh, I'm just dyin' to spend some _cash_."

When the film ended, Assassin finally burst into tears. Rocketeer groaned as Scout gave a more devious smile.

"Come on, guys. Fork it over."

Rocketeer and Assassin pulled their wallets out of their pockets and handed the Scout several dollar bills.

Rocketeer said to his sister, "Why do you always cry during _Gone with the Wind_? We've seen this movie at least twenty times now."

Assassin wiped a tear that had slid down her cheek. "I can't help it. I hate it when Rhett doesn't give a damn."

"Well, thanks to you, we just lost half of this week's paycheck. Next time, we're not taking any bets from your boyfriend."

After a toothpaste commercial aired right after the end credits, _The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly_ had been announced as the next film to air on Channel 35.

Demoman straightened in his seat. "Aye, this is one of my favorites!"

Scout stretched as he said, "I'm hungry. I think I'm in the mood for some more potato chips."

Rocketeer grunted. "All right, we'll get some for you."

Rocketeer and Assassin stood up from their seats, but before they left the room, both Sniper and Femme Fatale asked for some more cheese & crackers (and a few more bottles of Silver Dollar Cola). Rocketeer and Assassin could do nothing but frown as they headed for the Snack Room. Demoman followed them from behind. Once in the Snack Room, Rocketeer and Assassin visited the snack bar and collected more potato chips, crackers, and slices of Gouda cheese in separate paper plates. Demoman opened up the mini-fridge and pulled out a can of beer.

Rocketeer snickered as he said, "Isn't this ironic? We used to have a caterer back in Hollywood, and now we're catering to someone else since we _left _Hollywood."

Demoman popped open the lid to his can of beer. "Who was the caterer? Your mother?"

"Actually...yes."

"I still can't believe you got kicked out of your parents' studio."

Rocketeer shrugged his shoulders. "So we went over-budget at one time. It's not like it happened that often."

Assassin raised a finger and opened her mouth, but Rocketeer told her to stay quiet.

Demoman chuckled. "I don't think you knew much about all this Hollywood mumbo-jumbo."

Rocketeer replied, "Oh, we learned about it pretty quickly. Once you're in a place like Hollywood, it becomes more of a family tradition to become a part of one of L.A.'s most important regions."

"I don't mean to be rude, Jason, but you don't seem like the type of guy who would write movie scripts for a living."

"You don't look bad yourself."

"How many movies did you and Yvonne make?"

"I don't know. I lost count."

"Are any of them _popular_?"

Rocketeer rubbed his chin. "Jimmy the dry cleaner liked at least three of them."

"I bet I can make a movie that is better than yours."

"You'll need some proper equipment for that."

"I'll start with just pieces of paper. I have a vivid imagination, you know. I can write a screenplay of my own."

Rocketeer's curiosity grew. "What would it be about?"

"It would be anything. I've seen enough movies in my lifetime that would grant me a suitable amount of inspiration."

Assassin folded her arms across her chest. "I'd like to see you try."

"Watch me. I can write on in just twenty-four hours."

Rocketeer asked, "But what about your little problem?"

"What problem would that be?"

"We shouldn't forget about your daily binge."

Demoman shook his head. "I'll stop it for one day."

"I'll bet you a hundred dollars."

"Nice try, Jason. I still have my confidence."

Assassin added, "You're really serious about this screenplay, aren't you?"

Demoman gave a huge smile. "When was I ever dishonest about something?"

"How about that squirrel incident back in November?"

Demoman's smile quickly transformed into a frown. "Nobody ever proved that I did it just yet."

Rocketeer remarked, "You better be careful, Donald."

"You tell the Administrator about the squirrel, and I'll stuff you with so much alcohol you won't be able to return to Hollywood with a clear conscience."

"_I meant _that you better be careful about writing a script of your own. It's challenging stuff. It takes a whole lot of work when concentrating on a two-hour movie."

"It certainly doesn't look like it when you've made some of your own. I remember watching _Attack of the Killer Taco Shells_. I couldn't understand why you inserted a musical number right at the end."

"Well...that's Hollywood for you."

Scout's voice echoed from across the hallway. "Hey, guys! The movie's starting. Where are my potato chips?"

Rocketeer sighed. "Come on, Yvonne. We got to serve our master."

* * *

The next day, Demoman visited Rocketeer in his room and asked for his typewriter.

Rocketeer asked, "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Demoman nodded. "If I succeed, I could be the next Orson Welles."

"I don't think Orson Welles was ever drunk on the set."

"Think before you judge, lad. I'm going to stop my drinking for the entire day."

"That sounds like a major challenge. Are you sure you threw away all of your 'scrumpy'?"

"Medic is looking after all of my bottles. If I try to touch one, he will shoot me with his Syringe Gun."

"That's some good thinking, but I have my doubts. I've seen how close you are to all that alcohol of yours."

"Please don't remind me of that, lad."

Rocketeer handed Demoman his typewriter and several pieces of paper.

"If you need some more paper, just let me know."

"All right."

Once he had all the required equipment for his proposed screenplay, Demoman walked back into his own room. All he had inside was the desk, the bunk beds, and typewriter. He laid the typewriter and the pieces of paper down on the desk and sat down. He rubbed his palms together as he tried to think of a main plot. It took him a few minutes to think of one. He scratched his head as he gazed at the clock that hung on the wall. It was now fifteen minutes after five o'clock. Demoman figured that he would have at least until midnight to write about fifty pages worth of material. But then, he had an uneasy feeling. He began to shiver. He had the sudden urge to drink some whiskey. He tried to fight his primary temptation, however. He wanted to stay sober as he wrote his screenplay. He took deeper breaths, and once he settled his nerves, he began to concentrate on the typewriter again.

He stared at the typewriter for several seconds. He inserted a piece of paper in the typewriter. He cracked his knuckles and began to press a few keys. But then, he stopped. He pressed the same keys again. The clicking sounds of the keyboard sounded awfully familiar. He pressed the same keys yet again, and he finally recognized it. It sounded like the first three notes of "Scotland the Brave." He had played the traditional folk song on the bagpipes once. He laughed as he pressed more keys. He had a good time playing "Scotland the Brave" with the keyboard. Once he memorized which keys he had to press to play the tune, he began to play the song at a faster pace. His exhilaration had been heightened once he performed the song in Allegro. But then, he stopped. He stared at the paper that he had inserted in the typewriter. Because of his performance, the paper was filled with nothing but random words and numbers.

Demoman grunted as he pulled the piece of paper from out of the typewriter and tore it to pieces. He tried to set his mind on his screenplay, and not on his musical performance. He stared at the typewriter for a few more seconds. He thought long and hard about what film genre he should select. Something caught his attention. At the corner of his eye, he could see a long black line on the wall. He stood up from his chair and walked towards it. As he looked closer, he realized that it was a long trail of ants. He never expected to see an ant trail in his own room.

"You bloody insects have come to the wrong place."

Demoman squashed the ants with his hands. He started from the beginning of the trail to the end. He squashed those that ran away from the little massacre. Demoman found himself a wall of dead ants. He looked at his own hands and found them completely filthy. He went into the washroom to wash his hands. He used paper towels to clean the wall. When it appeared absolutely spotless, he gazed at the clock. It was now six o'clock. He had just wasted forty-five minutes by playing "Scotland the Brave" and squashing little insects.

"...Bloody hell."

He might as well order some food. He used the telephone on the desk to call Leonard the chef. He dialed the number to the cafeteria and waited for Leonard to pick up the phone.

"_This is Leonard_."

"It's me, Donald DeGroot."

"_Are you ordering for tonight's dinner_?"

"Aye, I'm in the mood for some veal cutlets and potato salad. Add a bottle of Silver Dollar Cola to that one, too."

"_Gotcha. It'll be ready in about thirty minutes_."

"Thanks, Leonard."

Demoman hung up the phone. He sat back down and tried to press a few more keys. He grunted as his mind went blank. Then, he thought now would not be the right time to use a typewriter. He would probably have to dictate his thoughts on pieces of paper. He picked up a pencil and wrote on a piece of paper. He tried to think of words that would help express the plot a little more. It didn't turn out as well as he had planned it. He drew pictures of bagpipes, beer bottles, and backstabbed BLU spies. He seemed to have enjoyed this art lesson, until he shot a glance at the clock again. He wasted another half hour. The phone rang, and Demoman picked it up. Leonard announced that his dinner was all ready. Demoman left his room to take his veal cutlet, potato salad, and a bottle of soda from the cafeteria.

Once he returned to his room with tonight's dinner on a warm plate, he avoided the pencil and went straight to the typewriter. He wanted to finish at least half a screenplay by midnight. He quickly thought of a scenario for the opening scene. He pictured the Scout as a lone survivor of...of what?

The Scout is a lone survivor of a...a _dinosaur attack_!

The Scout is running on the street, and he's trying to run away from an enormous bloodthirsty T-Rex.

The T-Rex is evil because he's from New York City...and he's a fan of the Yankees.

The Scout is trying to run away from a T-Rex who is catching up with him. They're in the middle of downtown Boston.

The R-Rex is about to eat the Scout alive when...when _what_?

The Boston Red Sox try to save him by using laser blasters.

Demoman grunted. This would have been a good idea if everyone was drunk. He tore up the piece of paper and inserted another one in the typewriter.

Here's another idea.

The Spy is about to rob a Parisian bank by using some high-tech gadgets.

It's two o'clock in the morning, and the security guards are about ready to fall asleep on the job. Spy breaks through the glass in complete silence. He walks past motion sensors without a hitch. He is about ready to steal one of the greatest items in the bank.

But what exactly is it?

The Spy is about to steal the world's largest diamond. But first, he has to get past through the vicious hounds.

But how will he defeat the hounds?

By...by having a dance competition. The Spy and the hounds must do the jitterbug correctly in order to...

Demoman quickly crumpled the first page. But he didn't want to give up very easily. He thought of another scenario.

It's the Wild West.

The Engineer is a lawman. A town is in trouble. The Engineer is having a duel with...a _unicorn_.

The unicorn has dual revolvers, just like the Engineer. The two of them are about to have a duel inside a fiery volcano. A gigantic lava monster is waiting for its prey. The Engineer and the unicorn draw their pistols and...

Yet another idea that stinks.

Demoman tried another one.

It is the medieval period. There are mountains and storm clouds everywhere. Femme Fatale, a woman from the mysterious East, is being sacrificed to a hungry dragon. She is wearing a blue dress as she is being tied to a pole. It is night, but torches are lit up everywhere. Femme Fatale tries to break loose from the rope that has bound her hands together. But once she hears the roar of the dragon, it is considered hopeless to try and escape. The gigantic dragon is soaring up in the sky and takes a dive towards his next victim. He lands on the ground, just a few feet in front of Femme Fatale. A tear slides down her cheek. The dragon rips the rope with its claw and wraps its fingers around Femme Fatale. He picks her up and flies away.

He takes her to his lair. He puts on his sunglasses and demands that she dance for him. She obeys him as she does an exotic medieval dance. But the dragon is not impressed. He wants her to wear a metal bikini while dancing. She refuses. The dragon licks his lips...

...And the Demoman rips the paper to shreds. This story sounded like it belonged to an X-rated comic strip.

He had one last chance at making it big. He began yet another scenario.

It is New York City. People are terrified...terrified of what, I wonder?

A giant hummingbird is flying across the Big Apple. It watches as tiny humans run away in the streets.

It stabs its beak at a young man, and it turns him into a drunken Scotsman.

The giant hummingbird stabs a woman, and she turns into a drunken Scotswoman.

The hummingbird stabs people all day. New Yorkers have become drunken Scots.

"I give up!"

Demoman wanted to throw the typewriter at the wall, but he quickly realized that he didn't possess it. Sighing, he slouched in his chair. Maybe he wasn't cut out for this Hollywood business after all. He thought of ways to beg Medic for a shot of brandy.

* * *

A half hour before midnight, and Rocketeer paid Demoman a visit. He felt amused when he saw the Scotsman lying in bed and taking another whiff of whiskey. Rocketeer also found crumpled and torn pieces of paper that lay scattered on the floor.

"You couldn't do it, could you?"

"I did all I could!"

Rocketeer folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall. "I told you it wasn't that easy."

"I don't understand it, lad. I have a good imagination. I don't know why I can't just write it on a single piece of paper."

"You can't just write it down. You have to understand it, too."

"How do you do it, Jason? How can you write scripts in such a short time?"

"It wasn't easy for both Yvonne and I. We had to start small."

"Start small?"

"Yeah, we had to start with TV commercials and short films. We didn't start with a two-hour movie right away. We had to get some experience in film first."

Demoman took a long sip of alcohol before he said, "Perhaps I should have taken that route."

Rocketeer eyed two pieces of paper that lay on the desk. "What are those?"

"Oh, those are just ideas for a commercial on Angel Potato Chips."

"Do you mind if I skim through it?"

"Not at all, lad."

Rocketeer read Demoman's screenplay for a potato chips commercial. He read it twice from beginning to end before acknowledging his astonishment.

"You know...I think you might have something here."

Demoman quickly sat up from the bed. "Do you think so?"

"I say that you should start small, and I think you're doing exactly that. This commercial would look pretty amazing."

Demoman smiled. "That makes me feel so happy."

"How about this? You, Yvonne, and I can work together to make this commercial absolutely perfect, and we can film it ourselves."

"Will that work?"

"You do want to experience the complete Hollywood experience, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

"Then, you're gonna have to trust me on this one."

Rocketeer picked up a crumpled piece of paper from off the floor and straightened it out on the desk. He examined Demoman's idea of a giant hummingbird that turned humans into drunken Scotsmen. He raised an eyebrow as he asked Demoman, "Do you mind if I use this for a future project?"

TO BE CONTINUED...


	43. SS - Grumpy Old Mercenaries

SHORT STORY

Grumpy Old Mercenaries

* * *

February, 1969

Friday night at Barnblitz meant that Leonard and the other chefs would make something special for dinner. They chose Argentinian cuisines for their specific theme. Outlaw felt pleased that he would have a chance to eat food from his home country again, though he had doubts about the chefs' abilities to produce authentic meals. When dinner was served, the four chefs served RED mercenaries some South American delights: from grilled sausages to breaded fried steak, from flatbread to grilled provolone cheese. Everyone wanted to get a taste of what the four chefs had produced in the kitchen. Several members had too much of a taste, however. When dinner ended, three RED mercenaries (Soldier, Heavy, and Demoman) relaxed on one of the sofas in the TV Room. They held their stomachs, which were filled to the brim with Argentinian food.

With their arms folded across their chests, Outlaw and Sniper could only stand still and stare at the exhausted looks on their faces.

Outlaw whispered to Sniper, "They couldn't even finish their desserts."

Demoman groaned as he murmured, "I don't think I had such a full stomach since Thanksgiving."

Soldier added, "At least you're not alone."

Outlaw gave a devious grin. "You know, my dear friends, they say that eating too much Argentinian food can give you everlasting nightmares."

Heavy shook his head. "Please do not try to scare us, Miguel. We are too weak to even care."

"Still, I warned you all about eating too much of that provolone cheese."

Demoman laughed. "We can't help it if we love cheese."

"Just be careful the next time you use the toilet."

Heavy smiled. "I like Argentinian food. We should have it again."

Outlaw shook his head. "We can't. Leonard just informed us that he and the other chefs won't be cooking any Argentinian meals for quite awhile. It turns out that it has become a bit of a hassle in the kitchen."

"That is too bad."

But soon, Heavy would feel the dark side of Argentinian food in the evening. When midnight approached, he prepared to go to bed. Since he had a room all by himself, he didn't have to worry about a roommate at all. He lay on his king-sized bed and closed his eyes. He would drift off to his own personal realm of fantastical dreams, but this time, South American pleasures would interfere with the inconsistency of his imagination.

* * *

He opened his eyes and found himself in his own bed. But this time, sunlight had seeped through the window. He sat up from his bed, and wondered how long he had slept. But even if he did oversleep, he still felt tired.

"Why am I still sleepy?"

He tried to get out of bed, but he found himself too fragile and hungry. "I need some prune juice."

He gazed at his arms, and noticed that his skin was wrinkled. He felt his chin and found a long white beard.

"I am old man!"

He slowly got out of bed and stared at the mirror that hung on the wall. He had become a much older man, presumable in his 80's or 90's. He found a glass of prune juice on his desk. He took a sip before he spotted the calendar. He found the exact date:

February 10th, 2013

Forty-four years had passed. That would explain why he felt so fragile at this moment.

"I think I need some aspirin."

He tried to call the Medic, but he started coughing. He decided to walk to the health center instead.

Once he left the building, he found himself in the snowy confines of Barnblitz. It certainly looked different the last time he saw it. There were billboards everywhere, with advertisements ranging from Coca-Cola to AXE Body Spray. Instead of old-fashioned railroad tracks, a monorail had been built in the center of Barnblitz. Heavy felt impressed.

"I am impressed."

"Hey, mate, stop standing around!"

Heavy could see the Sniper walking towards him. The Australian also had a long white beard, and he held a cane in his hand. He walked very slowly.

He yelled with a rasping voice, "Fighting begins in two hours!"

Heavy asked, "Shouldn't we be watching _Oprah_ instead?"

"That show was taken off the air. Don't you remember?"

"No, I don't."

"Well, hurry up and get your Minigun."

Heavy coughed. "Where is your rifle?"

"It's..." Sniper began to scratch his head. "Where _did_ I put that thing?"

"I will help you find it."

"Find what?"

"What did you find?"

In the meantime, a staggered old Soldier arrived, dragging his Direct Hit across the snow with one hand. "You maggots do nothing but stand around! Go on and prepare yourselves for battle."

Sniper groaned. "Stuff those words through your nose, you Yank! I'm tired of misplacing my rifle _and_ my Jarate!"

Heavy asked, "You still use pee for BLU Spies?"

"No, I use orange juice now. I can only pee in a tube."

Soldier coughed. "Don't we all?"

"At least I have it easy. You can't even use your Buff Banner anymore."

"I can still inhale properly. Just watch me."

Soldier brandished his Buff Banner bugle and tried to play a single note. Unfortunately, he could only blow air through the instrument. He tried several more times to play the famous "Buff" note, but he began to cough. He pounded on his chest to relief him of filthy air and mucus.

Sniper looked amused as he said, "Is there a doctor in the barn?"

Heavy said, "Let's go, Sniper. We have to find your rifle."

"Find what?"

"Who said that?"

A few minutes later, Heavy and Sniper entered the cafeteria. They found an aging Spy sitting alone at a bench, eating a bowl of tomato soup. An IV stood right next to him, with a tube injected in his left arm. Spy continued to slurp tomato soup with a spoon.

Heavy asked him, "Do you know where Sniper's hat is?"

Sniper looked confused. "_Was_ it a hat...or was it a kiwi?"

Spy cleared his throat before saying, "Be quiet! I'm trying to eat this soup in peace."

That didn't stop Heavy from asking, "Do you know where Sniper's Flamethrower is?"

Sniper scratched his head. "I have a Flamethrower?"

Spy blurted, "Shut up! I can't stand all this noise!"

"What noise?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Who knows?"

At that exact moment, the old white-haired Femme Fatale walked in with a four-wheeled walker. She staggered through the entrance as she said, "Do you know if they still serve oatmeal here?"

Heavy couldn't stop staring at her chest, which had been "enlarged" due to her old age.

Sniper replied, "Of course, they still serve oatmeal. It's been in this cafeteria for fifty years."

Femme Fatale sighed in relief. "That's good, because I want to get ready for the next Payload confrontation."

Heavy shook his head. "I don't think we can defeat BLU team like this."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You can no longer use your Grappling Hook because of your hip injury."

"Oh, don't be silly. I still have the moves."

She suddenly groaned as she said, "Oh, my back!"

"Do you want to see Medic?"

"No, I'll just pay him a little visit...after I eat my oatmeal."

She headed for the front counter.

Meanwhile, the old and wrinkled Scout arrived on his motor-powered wheelchair.

"Somebody get me some atomic punch! I can feel my heart racing!"

Spy blurted, "Oh, get it yourself, you old nutcase."

Scout narrowed his eyes. "You talkin' to me, tough guy?!"

"Yes, I am!"

"I'm gonna head-butt ya...right after I take my pills. Now, where that atomic punch?"

"We don't have any. We only have a can of Coca-Cola."

"Well then, just give me some Coca-Cola. I like Coca-Cola. You know, I remember back in 1973, when we had to face all those damn robots like rabbits fighting-"

"Stop it, Simon. You told us this story fifty times now."

"Was I alive back then?"

Heavy brought a straw and a can of Coca-Cola for Scout. Scout tried to pop open the lid, but he was too weak. Then, he tried to poke the lid with his straw, but it proved to be useless.

"How do ya even open this thing?"

Heavy popped open the lid for him.

"Thanks, Boris."

Scout placed the straw inside the can, but then he tried to catch the tip of the straw with his lips. It took him a long while, but he succeeded in grabbing the tip and finally drinking the soda.

Heavy just had a thought. "Where is Administrator?"

Sniper asked, "Which one?"

"The one by the name of Helen."

"Oh, she's been dead for twenty years. But luckily, her brain is still in use."

"What do you mean?"

"She's now in the form of a supercomputer."

"What witchcraft is this?"

"This isn't witchcraft, buddy. It's what you call supreme technology for the new millennium."

The front doors flew open as an aging Medic ran inside with his cane.

"I cannot take this any longer!"

Heavy looked genuinely alarmed. "What is happening?"

"I want to quit! I want to get out of here!"

Scout spit out his drink when he heard that. "You can't just quit, man! We've dedicated our whole life for Mann Co., you know that."

Medic yelled, "We've been fighting the BLU team for over forty years. It has been the same thing over and over _and over again_!"

Sniper shrugged his shoulder. "At least we finally get some health insurance."

"You go ahead and stay here! I'm going back to Stuttgart!"

"_Not so fast, Ludwig_!"

A large flat-screen TV suddenly emerged from out of the floor and stood face-to-face with Medic. The screen turned on, and an imitation of Helen's face had been revealed. She didn't look very pleased.

"Stay where you are, you _dummkopf_!"

Medic looked frightened. "But I have just seen the new members of BLU, and I don't think we are capable of defeating them."

The former Administrator smiled. "Don't feel so concerned. I know you can keep your reputation intact."

Sniper asked, "Who are these new members of BLU?"

"They are from Los Angeles. That is all I will say at this time. In the meantime, you must get ready for battle. The next mission begins in one hour."

Scout gave a little grin. "Good, that's just enough time for me to watch _A Game of Thrones_."

Heavy asked, "What is that?"

Spy replied, "It must be a new Monopoly game."

Sixty minutes had passed, and the fifteen members of RED prepared for yet _another_ Payload confrontation. They stood around the BLU side of Barnblitz. The gates were still closed. Engineer tried to construct a sentry, but he had forgotten how ten years ago. Bodyguard hoped and prayed that his life insurance would pay off. Assassin wiped her new eyeglasses with her shirt as she couldn't see a thing without them. Soldier still tried to blow through the Buff Banner, but he couldn't produce a single note.

A giant flat-screen TV emerged from out of the rooftops and the imitation of Administrator's face revealed itself on the screen. She gave a smile as she said, "Prepare to meet your new rivals."

The BLU gates opened. The new BLU members had arrived. The RED team couldn't believe what they saw. The Los Angeles Lakers were dressed in Purple and Gold.

Administrator announced "I present to you the members of the GOLD Team."

Heavy whispered, "Oh, no."

In a matter of seconds, Kobe Bryant, Dwight Howard, Pau Gasol, Steve Nash, Metta World Peace, and many others charged toward the old RED team with their rifles and bazookas.

* * *

Heavy opened his eyes. Not only did his nightmare force him to wake up, but an upset stomach gave him no assurance of going back to sleep. He sat up from his bed, moaning. He pressed his belly with the palm of his hand because of the pain. Argentinian food probably didn't agree with the mechanics of his digestive system.

"...Pepto-Bismol."

He stood up and walked out of his room. He reached the end of the hallway to open a small health kit that was attached to the wall. He pulled out a bottle of Pepto-Bismol. It looked small compared to the size of his hand. He twisted open the lid and drank it all in one sitting. Now he hoped that his indigestion would disappear in an hour or so. He went back into his room and tried to go back to sleep. It proved to be useless as his upset stomach didn't exactly go away for some time. Knowing that he wouldn't go to sleep right away, he decided to visit the TV Room and watch some late-night television.

Once he entered the TV Room, the lights had already been turned on. Heavy spotted the Medic sitting on the sofa and reading a book. The German wore a vest and a tie, and his white shirt had long sleeves that had been folded up to his elbows.

Heavy asked, "Why are you awake, doctor?"

Medic looked up from the page that he read and said, "I cannot sleep. So I decided to read."

"I cannot sleep, too."

"Vat is wrong?"

Heavy replied, "Argentinian food gave me bad indigestion."

Medic looked genuinely concerned. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

"But I did drink some Pepto-Bismol."

"That is good, but what are you doing here?"

"I cannot sleep. I wanted to watch television."

"That would be such a waste of time and energy. You should read one of my books."

"What are you reading?"

Medic pointed to the title of his book. "It is ze story of _Parzival_."

Heavy sat down beside him. "Does it have supercomputers?"

Medic gave a little chuckle. "No, you silly man. This is a medieval epic."

"I will read anything, except if it is about evil supercomputers."

"Why is that, mein friend?"

"Not only did I have upset stomach, but I also had nightmare."

"Was it really that bad?"

Heavy sighed. "It was _bad_. We were all a hundred years old. We still fought BLU Team, but we had white hair and wrinkled skin. Administrator had turned into supercomputer. The BLU Team turned into a bunch of basketball players."

"It sounds interesting."

"But everything went wrong for RED Team. We could no longer defeat the other team."

"That's bad."

"We no longer had the power to do our jobs. When I woke up, I felt scared."

"Scared about having white hair and wrinkled skin?"

"No, I felt scared about fighting the other team for many years. We did not have any families. We did not have any more friends to talk to. We just had ourselves and the other team."

"But we're mercenaries, mein friend. These are the careers that we have chosen for ourselves."

"But will we stay here forever?"

"Of course, we won't."

"What will we do if we are forced to leave this place?"

Medic rubbed his chin. "It seems like a good question...but I don't think we should over-analyze what you just dreamed about."

"I am nervous about future."

Medic sighed. "I think we all are."

Heavy found this to be the appropriate time to ponder whether staying with Mann Co. was actually worth it.

And meanwhile in downtown Chicago, Nathaniel Ingram found this to be the appropriate time to ponder whether the Heavy Weapons Guy should join his company with a clear conscience.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	44. SS - Valentine's Day

SHORT STORY

Valentine's Day

* * *

February, 1969

Valentine's Day didn't seem like a special holiday in the past. But the recent arrival of two female mercenaries brought a completely different feeling in the middle of February. On Thursday, just one day before Valentine's Day, several RED mercenaries had a special project of their own. Miss Pauling requested for brand new washers and dryers for the RED and BLU Laundromats. Administrator had her own doubts, but Engineer persuaded her to have him organize the new washers and dryers himself (with a little help from his teammates). Since the RED Rooms proved to be a personal triumph for the RED team, Administrator gave them her official endorsement.

On a cold afternoon in Barnblitz, the new washers and dryers had arrived. Engineer, Weatherman, Outlaw, Scout, and Rocketeer worked on their new Laundromat. The room had been remodeled just days before the new washers and dryers had been even ordered. Now, Engineer led his teammates to move the new appliances inside. Once they organized the first new washing machine, Weatherman took a good look at the new white-colored appliance.

"I don't think I recognize this brand."

Engineer chuckled. "These babies are made by good ol' Mann Co., actually. You can't find it anywhere else."

Scout asked, "What's so special about it?"

"They're powered by motors that came from Ford trucks."

Rocketeer appeared a little stunned. "These washers and dryers have _gas engines_?"

Engineer raised a finger. "And thanks to our fellow Australians, we can clean our laundry in a much shorter time. You don't have to wait over half an hour to just put your clothes in the dryer after they've been washed."

"How do they spin? With a fan belt?"

"You can say that."

Outlaw gave a grin. "We could be millionaires if we sold these to average citizens."

Engineer replied, "I think we're already going to be millionaires once we defeat the BLU team one last time. I just hope it'll happen after we retire."

Scout noticed a few buttons on the washing machine. One was colored red, the second colored blue, and the third colored green. "How do these buttons work?"

Engineer replied, "The red is for the wash cycle. The blue is for rinsing. The green button is for the dryer."

"What do you mean?"

"Once the washing is done, you just press the green button and your clothes will be sent right into the dryer with the use of suction. There's gonna be a tube that's connected to both machines. All of your clothes will be sucked right into the dryer."

Outlaw felt amused. "What will the Australians think of next?"

Weatherman rubbed his chin. "Maybe they'll find a solution for Nazir's steamed clams."

Scout laughed. "That would take months."

Engineer brandished his screwdriver. "Come on, guys. Let's finish this up before dinner. I hear Leonard's gonna cook some fine halibut."

The five mercenaries continued organizing the new washers and dryers in the new Laundromat. Engineer and Weatherman took care of the suction tubes that had to be connected with the appliances. Scout, Rocketeer, and Outlaw moved the washers and dryers in certain areas and had to make sure that the insiders of the appliances were clean. After they finished moving the washers, Scout and Rocketeer now had to arrange the dryers.

Scout whispered to Rocketeer, "Hey, Jason, does your sister like Belgian chocolate?"

Rocketeer whispered back, "Why are you asking me now? Shouldn't you have bought it a few days ago?"

"I already did. The package is supposed to arrive tonight, but I don't want her to know it's for her."

"I'm sure she'll like Belgian chocolate. She'll like anything."

"Does she like flowers? Does she like cards? Should I serenade her with an original song?"

"Easy there, man. Why are you so nervous?"

Scout shrugged his shoulders. "I just want to make sure that she'll like my Valentine's Day gift."

"I'm sure she'll like it."

Scout grinned. "Yeah, I guess you're right. You know, you've got a lovely sister. You're really lucky that you're related to her."

Rocketeer gave a half smile before immediately turning back to arranging the appliances.

Scout added, "I'm serious, man. She's one heck of a woman."

Rocketeer just nodded.

Scout continued. "You two must be really proud of each other."

Rocketeer sighed. "Yeah, that's right."

Scout felt a little confused at the man's questionable tone of voice. "Is there something wrong, man? Are you mad that I'm goin' out with your sister?"

"I've gotten over that a long time ago."

"Then what's wrong? Is it something about the chocolate?"

Rocketeer quickly raised a hand. "Just forget about it. I'm happy for Yvonne, and I'm happy for you. I'm just a little...irritated that we have to move all this heavy stuff."

Outlaw moved a dryer all by himself as he said, "It's simpler than you think, Jason. All you have to do is use your muscles."

"I wish I could say the same thing about Scout."

Scout almost laughed. "Hey, man!"

He lightly punched Rocketeer on the shoulder.

Outlaw shook his head. "You shouldn't even be concentrating on such a meaningless holiday."

Scout raised an eyebrow. "We shouldn't?"

"It's just something for woman to enjoy."

Scout and Rocketeer gave each other inquisitive glances. Rocketeer asked Outlaw, "So what are _you_ giving Victoria for Valentine's Day?"

After a few seconds of silence, Outlaw replied, "It's a secret. The package is going to arrive tonight."

Scout was amused. "You mean it's gonna arrive at the same time as my Belgian chocolate?"

"Yes, you might say that?"

Rocketeer asked, "What is it? We promise we won't tell the Femme Fatale."

"I can't trust you on that."

Scout asked, "Why not?"

"I can't trust you on keeping secrets."

"I...I think you've got a good point there."

Outlaw added, "But I will say this. It's not chocolate. It's not flowers. It's not a song that I can play on the guitar."

Engineer asked, "Is it a toolbox?"

"Is _that_ what you call a Valentine's Day present?"

"That's how we see things back in Texas."

"You can keep your toolbox. I have my own gift."

Scout leaned against the dryer and folded his arms across his chest. "Can you at least give us a hint, man?"

"Here's one: this gift is not for you."

* * *

Demoman spent such a great deal of time in the afternoon in his room. He used Rocketeer's typewriter to finish the screenplay for a Silver Dollar Refrigerator commercial. Ever since Rocketeer's first impression of his script for an Angel Potato Chips commercial had a substantial effect on his newfound confidence, Demoman couldn't stop writing. Pyro, who shared the room with him, had lay on the top bunk bed and read one of his newly written screenplays. Demoman asked if he liked it or not. Pyro just shrugged his shoulders. Demoman shook it off as a nod of approval and went back to writing his latest script. A short time later, he found himself running a little short on paper. He left his room and asked the Soldier if he had any more pieces of paper in his room. Soldier replied that he had some in his desk drawer. Demoman was free to take some. The Scotsman nodded and entered Soldier's room. He opened one of the desk drawers and collected several more pieces of paper for himself.

But before he could leave, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. There was something under the Soldier's mattress. It looked like a portion of a photograph. Demoman took a peek of the hallway, which was completely devoid of any human presence. He hesitated as he tried to get a closer look at the hidden photograph. He immediately jumped away as soon as he heard loud footsteps with an increasing volume. Soldier popped his head in the room and stared at the photograph hidden under his mattress.

"You didn't see anything, did you?"

Demoman had to be honest. "I tried hard, but I failed."

"Good, because that photograph is not for you."

"Who's in the picture?"

"It's somebody that you don't know."

"What's her name?"

"I think it's time for you to leave now."

"What's the matter?"

"Just go."

Soldier was about to push him away, but Demoman quickly left the room. Soldier slammed the door shut. Demoman just stood there, puzzled at Soldier's odd behavior. The photograph must have made a big impression on him.

* * *

One day passed, and now Valentine's Day made its permanent arrival in Barnblitz. Both Scout and Outlaw couldn't wait to give their gifts to their closest companions.

Meanwhile, Miss Pauling wore her jacket and gloves as she trudged across the snow. She was on her way to the RED Rooms to check on the RED mercenaries. But something interrupted her little trek through a wintry combat zone. At the entrance to the third checkpoint, she slid off some slippery ice on the concrete floor, which caused her to crash into a stack of oil barrels. The entire stack collapsed. She jumped away in time to avoid getting hit. She remained uninjured, though six barrels lay on the floor.

She cursed under her breath. "Just my luck."

She began to try and pick up one of the barrels with her hands, until she spotted the unexpected arrival of Weatherman.

"I'll take it from here, Miss Pauling."

He took the barrel from out of her hands and placed it on its original spot. "I'll restack them for you."

Miss Pauling cleared her throat as she picked up her clipboard from off the floor. "Thank you, Shane. It's much appreciated."

"So what are you doing here?"

"I'm just doing my usual checkup on you and your teammates."

Weatherman nodded. "That's good...well, I'm here."

"I can see that."

The two of them stood still before Miss Pauling pointed at her watch. "I should get going."

"I understand. You go on right ahead."

"Thanks for your help."

Weatherman watched her as she left for the RED barracks. He let out a deep sigh as he began to restack the pile of oil barrels.

* * *

"So it's finished?"

"It's done."

Engineer showed Femme Fatale and Sniper the brand new appliances in the Laundromat. He showed them the three buttons and the suction tubes.

Femme Fatale appeared impressed. "I do believe we are finding ourselves in an affordable abode."

Sniper smiled. "It almost feels like an apartment complex."

Engineer readjusted his helmet. "If we keep this up, we could get our very own garages pretty soon. We might get our own automobiles."

Femme Fatale asked, "Where would we drive?"

"It wouldn't matter, as long as we own our own cars and trucks."

"I do not think we should rush into unrealistic possibilities."

Engineer grunted. "Don't make me lose my optimism, ma'am."

At that exact moment, someone else arrived at the Laundromat. It was Outlaw. At least it looked liked Outlaw.

Engineer took off his goggles to get a better look at the beardless Argentinian. The man had shaved off his beard entirely. And to Femme Fatale, he looked more charismatic than before.

"Hello, gentlemen. Hello, Victoria."

Sniper asked, "What the hell happened to your beard?"

Outlaw smiled. "I'm trying something new, my friend."

Femme Fatale remarked, "So you are going for the clean shaven look. I think I like it."

"Perhaps I should make it permanent."

Engineer asked, "So, Miguel, what brings you here?"

Outlaw brandished a small rectangular box that was gift-wrapped in red. "This is for Victoria."

He handed it to Femme Fatale, who looked almost timid at the moment. "Oh, Miguel, you shouldn't have."

"But I did, and I don't think I will regret it."

Femme Fatale kept staring at her gift. Outlaw cleared his throat before he tried to say, "I, uh...I should go. Miss Pauling wants to see me for a brief checkup."

He left without saying another word.

Sniper whispered to Femme Fatale, "What do you suppose is in that box?"

Femme Fatale replied, "I do not know, but I have a feeling it is something precious."

Engineer looked slightly amused. "With a box that size, I somehow doubt it."

"Oh, please."

"So are you gonna open it?"

"I wouldn't want to ruin your satisfaction, so I'll open it alone."

"Oh, come on now. We promise we won't laugh."

Femme Fatale chuckled. "You are amazing."

She left the Laundromat as Engineer and Sniper stayed behind.

* * *

Scout and Rocketeer spent their time in the Game Room. They bet against each other while playing eight-ball billiards. Scout had only one thing in his mind, and he wanted to discuss it with Rocketeer. The brown-haired Californian had taken off his red-colored jumpsuit, and now revealed himself in his black pants and white undershirt. As Rocketeer focused on a cue ball and a three-ball, Scout began to polish off his cue stick with chalk.

He asked, "Hey, Jason, can your sister be a bit picky sometimes?"

Rocketeer still tried to concentrate on his next move as he said, "I hope you're talking about the Belgian chocolate."

"I am. I gave her my present right before lunch."

"What did she think of it?"

"To tell you the truth...I don't think she likes it."

"What makes you think that?"

"She didn't really sound amazed when she saw it. It's almost as if she had mixed feelings about it. Are you sure she likes chocolate?"

"Of course, I'm positive."

"Well, it didn't seem like it a few hours ago."

"Where is she now?"

"The last time I saw her, she was talking to Victoria near the barracks."

Rocketeer hit the cue ball with his cue stick, which led to the three-ball landing in one of the corner pockets.

Scout sighed. "I don't know what's goin' on. Do you?"

Rocketeer didn't look at Scout as he said, "I don't know, either, but I'm sure it's not your fault."

"What do _you_ think about this?"

"I'm not interested in what goes on between the two of you."

"What are you talkin' about? The first time you found out about me and Yvonne, you tried to separate us. I know she's your sister and all, but you shouldn't have been a jackass about it."

Rocketeer drew a deep breath as he leaned on his cue stick. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry."

"Hey, is something bothering you?"

Rocketeer kept his eyes on the billiards table. "How would you know?"

"Whenever I mention Yvonne, you don't feel like talking about it. And right now, you're not even looking at me when we're talking."

Rocketeer finally glanced at Scout as he said, "I'm sorry."

"You know, I think there's something going on that I don't know."

"Calm yourself. There's nothing wrong. It's just..."

Rocketeer's hesitation led to Scout's remark. "It's just what? Does this remind you of a girlfriend that broke up with you or what?"

Rocketeer shook his head. "That's not it. I'm just thinking about something that happened back home."

"What happened?"

"I don't think I want to discuss it right now. Let's keep on playing."

Rocketeer kept his eyes on the cue ball and the ten-ball.

Scout shrugged his shoulders as he said, "Whatever you say, man. But please tell me that Yvonne likes Belgian chocolate. The gift was freakin' expensive."

"She may not like it now, but once she takes the first bite, she'll love you even more."

Scout gave a half smile. "I hope you're right, man."

"I know I'm right."

But deep inside, Rocketeer didn't feel pleased. He couldn't stop thinking about a particular incident that happened in Southern California.

* * *

Femme Fatale was now alone. She stood outside, standing on the rooftop near the third checkpoint. The late afternoon sun had just been covered by an enormous cumulus cloud, leaving the entire region of Barnblitz in partial darkness. She held Outlaw's gift in her hand, and she couldn't wait to open it. She ripped open the wrapping paper and opened the small box. She almost couldn't believe what she saw. It was a diamond necklace.

"Good gracious."

"What is it?"

A familiar voice from behind her caused her to close the box at lightning speed. She turned around and gazed at Sniper.

"You should not sneak up on people. That is the Spy's job."

Sniper apologized as he stared at the box in Femme Fatale's hand. "So what did he give you?"

Femme Fatale's surprise caused her to chuckle. "I cannot believe you are so curious."

"_I_ can't believe you can't be just a little honest."

Femme Fatale sighed. "It's a necklace."

"What kind of necklace?"

"It's a _diamond_ necklace."

"Let's see it."

Femme Fatale opened the box again. The two of them examined Outlaw's tremendous gift. The diamond was triangle-shaped, with little round-shaped emeralds on each point.

Sniper blurted, "He must be crazy if he shelled out hundreds of dollars for _this_."

"I would never think he is crazy."

"So do you like it?"

"I do not like it...I absolutely _love_ it."

Sniper scratched the side of his head. "But I think we're missing something."

"What do you mean?"

"Why would Miguel leave right when he handed you his gift?"

"I have my own theory."

"What is it?"

The cumulus cloud had soared past the sun, and now Barnblitz had been illuminated once again with natural luminosity.

Femme Fatale asked, "Do you remember when he said he once had a lover named Isabella?"

"Yes, I remember. She's the one that he met back in Argentina. He told me everything about her...even how she died."

"He once said that he never spoke to another woman since her death."

"Twenty-five years _is_ a long time."

Femme Fatale stared at the diamond necklace. "At least he is trying to forget the past so he can focus on the future."

"I'll give him credit for that."

"This seems to be another step forward."

Sniper raised his eyebrows. "So you _do_ care about him."

Femme Fatale smiled. "Yes, I do."

"Maybe you should've given him a gift, also."

"I just did. It is on his desk in his bedroom."

"What kind of present is it?"

"How about we wait until he opens it?"

"That sounds fair."

* * *

Demoman continued to write another screenplay in his room. This time, Pyro had left the room and now the Scotsman focused on a possible scenario for C&H Sugar. He was about to finish the last few sentences, until Soldier revealed himself at the open entryway.

Demoman asked, "Is there something wrong?"

Soldier took off his helmet. "I'm just here to say that I'm sorry for being rude yesterday."

Demoman waved his hand. "Don't worry, lad. I shouldn't even think about that photograph. That was stupid of me trying to evade your privacy."

Soldier walked in. "You know, I didn't want you to see it because I felt a little insecure about showing it to everyone else."

"Why would you feel that way?"

Soldier leaned against the wall. "It's a picture of someone that I loved a long time ago."

"Who is she?"

Soldier folded his arms across his chest and stared at the floor in front of him. "Her name...was Florence. We first met each other back in 1956."

"She must've been a great-looking lady."

"Oh, she was. We stayed together for four years before she moved back to Portugal."

"Oh, so she was Portuguese."

Soldier nodded. "Anyway, when she moved back to her home country, something terrible happened."

Demoman frowned. "I don't like the sounds of this already."

"In the summer of 1961, a group of men had beaten her to death in the streets."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"To this day, I still don't understand why they just flat out killed her."

Demoman sighed. "Florence must have been a great woman."

"You're right about that. I loved her since the day I met her. Do you want to see the photograph?"

"Yes, I do."

Soldier pulled out the photograph from his pocket and showed it to Demoman. The photograph was in black and white, and it featured a beautiful Portuguese woman in a dress, standing on the sands of an elegant beach.

"You were a lucky man to have her, lad."

"Thanks."

As Demoman smiled when staring at the photograph, Soldier felt even more uncomfortable. He didn't want to be dishonest toward one of his best friends, but at the same time, he didn't want the entire RED team to discover the absolute truth about his former lover.

* * *

"Simon, wait up!"

Scout was about to go outside, until Assassin stopped him and stood right on front of him. The two of them were near the main entrance to the final checkpoint. They stood a few feet away from the railroad tracks.

"What is it, Yvonne?"

Assassin replied, "I'm sorry if I appeared to be a little disappointed about your gift. Actually, I love it. I love Belgian chocolate."

"But how come your first impression didn't look that way?"

"Because I had a lot in my mind, and I didn't really think straight. But to tell you the truth, I love it. Thank you."

Scout smiled. "All right! I always make it look easy. Happy Valentine's Day, Yvonne."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Simon."

They embraced each other. Assassin laid her head on Scout's shoulder, but once she opened her eyes, she saw her older brother staring at her from a distance. She recognized that blank stare. Rocketeer stood still for several more seconds before he turned away and walked back to the barracks. Assassin buried her head in Scout's shoulder as she tried to forget what had happened back in Southern California. The memory kept coming back because of how significant it was. She knew Rocketeer tried to forget the incident, but deep inside, Assassin didn't want to see it as an afterthought. In the meantime, she tightened her grip on Scout because she wanted to acknowledge her love for him.

* * *

The sun descended into the western horizon. As it faded into temporary oblivion, more cumulus clouds began to gather in the darkening sky, which gave itself a purplish blue hue.

Sniper found Outlaw up in the watchtower, which was located near the second checkpoint. After climbing the ladder, he took off his hat and said "hello."

Outlaw did look different because of his lack of a beard. His new clean shaven look might become an enduring occurrence if he and Femme Fatale did acknowledge their admiration for each other.

Sniper remarked, "I'm guessing you're going to keep shaving it off."

Outlaw gazed at the sunset. "I shouldn't always look the same as time flies by."

Sniper leaned against the railing. "So what did Victoria get you for Valentine's Day?"

Outlaw chuckled as he took off his bandanna from off his head. "She gave me a new Cattle Prod for future confrontations with BLU."

"That sounds nice, mate."

"It does. It means that she truly cares about me."

"You're a lucky man, Miguel. You know that, don't you?"

"Of course, I do."

Sniper turned his head to see Femme Fatale reaching the top of the watchtower with the ladder.

"Hello, dear friends."

Outlaw turned around and saw her standing up from the ladder. It almost took him by surprise when he saw her wearing the diamond necklace around her neck. She looked even more beautiful than before.

Sniper tipped his hat before he said, "I think I'll leave you two alone."

He climbed down the ladder, leaving Outlaw and Femme Fatale to look at each other.

With a smile, Femme Fatale stated, "I never thought I would like such an extravagant gift."

"I hope I don't have to buy more of them."

"You don't have to. Gifts don't even matter when I have you."

That made Outlaw feel slightly timid. He was about to say something, but Femme Fatale interrupted by saying, "It's such a beautiful sunset."

The two of them gazed at the descending sun. As it disappeared behind the hills, the sky slowly modified itself with a more bluish color.

Outlaw turned away and focused on Femme Fatale's undeniable splendor. Strands of black hair began to dance along with the calm wind. The diamond necklace didn't even do her beauty justice.

He whispered, "To be honest, Victoria...I never thought I would meet another wonderful woman in my life."

Femme Fatale edged closer towards him. "And I never thought I would meet such a fascinating man. I am thankful to be here."

"Because I am here?"

"I believe it is obvious."

Outlaw smiled. "Then, I am grateful that we are here."

He touched her shoulders as he gave her a kiss. A newfound sense of comfort was implanted in the heart and mind of Femme Fatale. The kiss was authentic, filled to the brim with complete passion. When he pulled away, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Miguel."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Victoria."

Outlaw held her close as the two of them kissed once again. They stayed up on the watchtower for several more seconds.

* * *

Soldier was alone in his room. He stared at the black-and-white photograph of the Portuguese woman. It was true that he once had a lover who moved back to Portugal. But in reality, his lover did not look like the woman in the photograph. In fact, her name wasn't Florence.

Soldier placed the photograph on his desk and took his clock from off the wall. Since Engineer, his current roommate, stayed in one of the RED Rooms for the rest of the evening, Soldier locked the door and took apart the clock. He had hidden the real photograph inside it. Once he opened up the clock with a screwdriver, he obtained the photograph and raised it up to his eyes. The black-and-white photograph contained a young Portuguese man who smiled at the camera.

Soldier gazed at his former lover from long ago. He silently cursed himself for being dishonest to Demoman.

His former lover's name wasn't Florence. It was Florencio. He was the twenty-one-year-old man who won over Soldier's heart.

And the group of men that beat him to death in the streets of Lisbon had a specific reason. They killed him because he didn't have any attraction toward females.

Soldier held the same fear that Florencio once clung on to. If he told the absolute truth to his teammates, then he probably would be seen much differently than before. He didn't want to lose friendships. He had this sort of experience before.

Sighing, he placed the photograph back inside the clock. Now at the age of forty-seven, keeping a secret for so long never felt so painful.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	45. Meet the ASSASSIN, Alternate Version

Note: This is the alternate one-shot version of the Assassin class. For the past two months, I've had mixed feelings about the original version of the Assassin. So I've decided to produce a different version for one chapter. This will probably be a one-shot, seeing as how I've already incorporated the original Assassin in this entire fanfiction. Also, there are seven bluesy songs from Metallica that have given me inspiration to write this particular chapter. The songs are: _2 X 4_, _King Nothing_, _Poor Twisted Me_, _Devil's Dance_, _Carpe Diem Baby_, _Turn the Page_, and _Bleeding Me_. All seven songs are available on YouTube.

* * *

Meet the ASSASSIN (Alternate Version)

* * *

July, 1968

The hot afternoon sun hovered over the city of Cincinnati. Ian stayed in his apartment and gazed out the window. He watched in silence as pedestrians and automobiles passed by the apartment. They didn't spot him because he wore black. As a matter of fact, he always loved wearing black. At the moment, he wore a black t-shirt and black denim jeans. Some people might compare him to Johnny Cash, but one shouldn't compare a famous singer to a cold-blooded assassin. Ian kept his Dual Pistols on the coffee table. He expected a very important call right about now. In the meantime, he kept observing the moderate hustle and bustle of Cincinnati. He had turned the radio on at a low volume as it played a classic blues rock song. Ian always admired blues rock ever since he discovered the natural talents of Chuck Berry, Bob Dylan, and the Allman Brothers Band. It kept him calm and patient as he waited for his next assignment from the Chief of Police.

The phone rang. Ian finally walked away from the window and picked up the phone. He could hear Brandon Forsyth's voice on the other end.

"_Are you there, Ian_?"

Ian spoke with a husky voice, "Yes, I'm here."

"_You should be careful with this one. This could be a big risk_."

"Please explain."

"_There is a man who goes by the name of Todd Marks. He has a moustache and wears a gray cowboy hat. He killed two men and four women in just one week_."

"That doesn't surprise me."

"_I know that. Anyway, he's going to be at a local tavern called the Three Kings tonight. I assume you've heard of it_."

Ian chuckled. "I'm a regular there."

"_All right, you know what to do_."

Both of them hung up almost simultaneously. Ian readied himself for yet another assassination of a Cincinnati criminal. This became more of a standard procedure for him. He had worked as an assassin for the Chief of Police, his mentor, for a few years. Brandon Forsyth didn't feel that his own officers couldn't do the job properly, so he relied on Ian to exterminate those who refused to get caught by law enforcement. This would have been considered police corruption on Forsyth's part, but he took a chance and he felt a newfound sense of pride when he hired his secretive student for the job. In a few minutes, Ian grabbed his Dual Pistols and put them in a paper bag. He left his apartment and headed for the Three Kings tavern.

It would take at least another hour for the sun to disappear into the western horizon. Ian drove through the streets of Cincinnati and reached the Three Kings tavern. Once inside, he gave a little two-finger salute to Jim the bartender. They knew each other for quite some time: Jim knew what Ian did for a living, and he didn't want to delve deeper into his personal life. Ian made sure no one watched him as he taped his Dual Pistols underneath the billiards table. He planned this for only a few minutes. He would confront Todd Marks with an ordinary game of eight-ball billiards, and if Todd had even the slightest realization of this trap, Ian would immediately shoot him down before leaving the tavern and into the blackness of a warm evening.

Ian waited for at least an hour for the arrival of Todd Marks. He sat at a booth with a bottle of beer in his hand. On occasion, he shot a brief glance at the barflies that stayed in the building for the entire afternoon. They did nothing but stare down at their beer mugs. The front doors opened, and in stepped Todd Marks with his moustache and gray cowboy hat. Ian kept silent as Todd grabbed a bottle of beer and began to play a game of eight-ball billiards all by himself. Ian watched for several minutes before deciding that this would be the right time to compete against the criminal. He stood up from the booth and grabbed a cue stick.

"Do you mind if I join ya, pal?"

Todd Marks gave a sinister-looking grin. "Don't mind if you do."

Ian polished the tip of his cue stick with chalk. "So what's your name?"

"Todd, Todd Marks."

Bingo...

"I haven't seen you around before. Are you new here?"

Todd chuckled. "No, I've been living here for all my life."

"So have I."

Todd began the game as he broke the original arrangement of the object balls with the lone white-colored cue ball. "What's your name?"

Ian lied. "The name's Victor, Victor Sampson."

"Do you always enjoy a little game of pool?"

"I do, occasionally."

Todd hit three balls in different pockets. "You may have to be a little careful. I'm a bit of an expert."

"I can see that."

Todd lit a cigarette. "So what brings you here, Mr. Sampson?"

It was Ian's turn to play. "I've got nothing to do on a Thursday night, so I thought I might as well visit my favorite place of all."

"I think I can believe you."

Ian concentrated not on the cue balls on the billiards table, but the Dual Pistols that he had taped underneath it. "What do you do for a living?"

Todd replied in a straightforward manner, "I work at a motel somewhere around here."

"Is that the only thing you do?"

"No, that's not it. I also meet people for specific reasons. I get to know them, and then I do things."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "You mean _hookers_?"

Todd shook his head. "No, I don't mean that. I mean I talk to law enforcement and tell them that they're about to lose their reputation if they don't save their own asses as fast as they can."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that I can't lose my life without the supervision of others."

Ian stopped concentrating on the billiards table. It looked like the gig was up.

Someone else had arrived in the tavern. Ian recognized him as Kurt Pendleton, the Police Captain for the Cincinnati Police Apartment. Pendleton folded his arms across his chest and stared at the two men who played at the billiards table.

Todd gave Ian a sinister smile. "If you kill me now, then you'll have to answer to law enforcement. Forsyth ain't gonna save you this time."

Ian found himself in a terrible situation. If he killed Todd Marks, then Pendleton would accuse him of cold-blooded murder and he would receive the death penalty. He had to find a way to escape this premeditated scenario.

"You bastards really know how to ruin a good time."

Todd whispered, "It's what we do best."

But this time, Ian found no time to hesitate. At quick speed, he reached for his Dual Pistols and pointed both barrels at Todd Marks and Kurt Pendleton. He pulled the triggers five times. With five loud bursts, the killer and the Police Captain collapsed on the floor with bullet holes on their chests. Jim and the barflies moved away in fear. Ian used the back door to escape.

* * *

He called Brandon Forsyth on a payphone near downtown. He requested that they meet up as soon as possible. He picked the location: a parking garage near a corporate building. As soon as he hung up, he began to feel sweat pouring down his forehead. But it wasn't entirely because of the evening's humidity. In fact, it worsened his deepened frustration. He never felt so tense in his entire life. Almost half an hour later, he and Forsyth met each other on the third floor of the parking garage. In his police uniform, Forsyth asked more questions than Ian could handle.

"Forget that, Brandon. How did Todd Marks know about Pendleton?"

"It's the other way around. Pendleton knew about your occupation, so he decided to take you away. He didn't want someone else to handle police affairs. I'm not sure if he knows that I am involved, but there is a very slim chance that he is."

"Why didn't you tell me about Pendleton's arrival?"

"I didn't even know about it."

Ian sighed. "You know what's going to happen. The entire police force is going to hunt me down. I'll have to leave Cincinnati for quite awhile."

"That would be a good idea."

"No, Brandon. It's a horrible idea. I can't just leave this place. I can't leave Teresa behind."

"You don't have a choice, do you?"

"I can only blame you for it."

"You can't blame anybody. You can only blame it on bad luck."

Ian observed the illumination of downtown Cincinnati. The skyscrapers didn't look exactly monumental in stature, but the attractive exterior designs gave downtown its sincere appearance.

"I don't know where to go."

"You can move anywhere. You can go to Seattle or Jacksonville. Just try not to return to Cincinnati until no one even recognizes you."

"Not even Teresa?"

"Especially her, I'm afraid."

Ian felt like having a cigarette, but he fought against his current state of mind. "I'll miss you, Brandon. You've taught me so much over the years."

"Don't mention it. And don't worry about me. I'll manage law enforcement on my own."

* * *

News of Pendleton's death became a hot topic in the morning news. Ian sat down on the sofa in the living room and watched as the TV reporter described the crime scene. The man also described the suspect, which proved to be the proper appearance of the assassin. Ian could only shake his head in despair. He didn't want to leave Cincinnati, since he didn't know much about the rest of the United States.

But suddenly, he heard a knock on his front door. He stared at the door and tried to hear any strange noises from the other side. A white-colored envelope had slid through the bottom opening. Ian stood up from the sofa and headed towards the front door. He looked through the peephole and found no one standing in the hallway. He crouched down and picked up the envelope. It was addressed to him, but the envelope lacked the sender's address. Despite his suspicion, he tore open the envelope and read the letter inside it. There was an insignia on the top of the letter that looked like a bomb with the word 'RED' imprinted in the center of it. He read the letter. Basically, it spoke of how he was needed for Mann Co.'s latest confrontations. As soon as he finished reading the letter, he thought of how Reliable Excavation Demolition would be his new home. He couldn't bear to leave Cincinnati, but a forced exile left him with no choice. He took the offer with no second thoughts.

But before he could pack his bags for New Mexico, he wanted to see his girlfriend for one last time. She worked at a local dry cleaner near downtown. She would get off of work by the late afternoon. He visited her apartment at five-thirty.

Teresa was a beautiful young woman from Ecuador. Her parents decided to reside in the United States, though they would experience discrimination almost immediately. They thought of leaving, but they didn't want to return to Ecuador. Teresa adapted into her new American lifestyle pretty quickly. At twenty-eight years of age, she taught herself the English language. Even if she still had a South American accent, she managed to express herself with proper grammar and a wide range of vocabulary.

When Teresa found him standing at her front door, she couldn't look away. She wore her blue jeans and a black t-shirt. Judging by the dejected look on her face, he could only assume that she had been informed about Pendleton's death, and the assassin's permanent exile.

"Can I come in?"

Teresa slowly nodded. "Of course, you can."

When she closed the door behind them, Ian wanted to get this over with.

"I'm sorry, Teresa, but I have to leave."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm moving to New Mexico. I know it's sudden, but I can't face criminal charges at a time like this."

She appeared more miserable than before. "I knew your job would bring you nothing but trouble."

"But it's the only thing I'm good at. And because of it, I have to leave this city."

"When will you come back?"

"I don't know."

"How will I ever communicate with you again?"

"We can write letters to each other, but we have to be more cautious than before."

She closed her eyes. "You have no idea how much I'm going to miss you."

Ian grabbed her by the shoulders. "It's going to be okay, Teresa. I'll return soon. But in the meantime, be strong. I will never forget you."

"And I won't forget _you_."

They held each other in their arms. This would be their last night together for a long while.

* * *

Ian packed his bags and took the train for New Mexico. He joined five new recruits as they underwent basic training for Reliable Excavation Demolition. He knew how to use pistols and shotguns, so the first few stages of training didn't cause him any discomfort. The later stages became a bit of a hassle, however. He had to run through obstacle courses with the other recruits. The six of them also had to run past sticky bombs and jump over flying rockets. When they completed training, they were given their choice of uniforms and their choice of weaponry. Ian, along with the five other recruits, had become official members of RED.

* * *

Gravel Pit became their new home. They carried their bags as they settled in their new bedrooms. Ian had to share a bunk bed with a Mongolian-American man named Jason. He didn't feel like getting to know his new roommate. He felt thirsty, so he headed for the lounge to grab a bottle of soda from the refrigerator. Once he arrived, he found a man in a suit and a man wearing what looked like a fedora hat (but Ian couldn't be too sure). The two of them played cards at a poker table.

"Maybe it's time that I introduce myself."

Both Sniper and Spy looked up from their cards and said "hello."

Ian added, "I'm from Cincinnati. Where are you guys from?"

Ian, Sniper, and Spy got to know each other pretty well. They discussed various subjects, ranging from place of origin to former occupations. Ian described his life as a Cincinnati assassin, and how the death of a Police Captain motivated him to take Mann Co.'s offer.

Spy asked, "What sort of arsenal do you possess?"

Ian showed his Dual Pistols to the two gentlemen. "The Administrator let me keep these."

"So they're your own possessions."

"Yes, they are. I've had these since I was twenty-five years old."

Sniper asked, "How old are you now?"

"Add twelve more years."

"...Ah, I see."

"So the next confrontation is going to be my first. When is it?"

"The Administrator should announce it pretty soon."

"I can't wait."

Spy chuckled. "Usually, the new recruits are terribly nervous."

"I'm never nervous when it comes to gunfights."

"Why don't you prove it to us?"

"All right, I will."

* * *

"_Five...four...three...two...one_!"

The entire RED team waited for members of BLU to try and take the first control point. Standing beside Demoman and Pyro, Ian brandished his Dual Pistols. He watched as a BLU Scout and BLU Soldier rushed across a corridor. Ian aimed the barrels of his pistols at the BLU Scout. He pulled each trigger five times. With the fifth bullet, he managed to shoot the BLU Scout in the head. The BLU Scout fell to the floor almost immediately. Demoman used his Grenade Launcher on the BLU Soldier, who already released three rockets from his Rocket Launcher. Ian, Demoman, and Pyro jumped away and narrowly missed the incoming projectiles.

When he stood up again, Ian noticed the BLU Rocketeer hovering in the air and with a Tire Iron in his hand. He charged straight for him. Ian brandished his Police Baton, and just as BLU Rocketeer landed on the floor, the Cincinnati native swung his Police Baton just before the Californian could hit him with his own melee weapon. BLU Rocketeer fell to the floor, but quickly pulled out his Shotgun from his belt. Ian brandished his own shotgun: his Double Barrel Shotgun. He pulled the trigger before BLU Rocketeer could pull his own. The pellets pierced through the torso, and blood began to spurt out of BLU Rocketeer's wound. He was lifeless.

These sorts of confrontations continued for the rest of the afternoon. The RED Team won for most of the time in Gravel Pit. Ian quickly recognized the environment that surrounded him. He gradually memorized the entire location so he would plan on an intended assault for the next day.

* * *

The confrontations ended at sunset. Everyone headed back to their respective bases.

Ian brought his electric blues guitar into the lounge and sat on one of the sofas. He began playing a few tunes from Bob Dylan and BB King. Since he couldn't put an amplifier in the lounge, he just performed with an acoustic feel. Scout and Sniper had arrived in the lounge and began to hear him play the guitar.

Scout scratched his head. "I don't recognize that tune. What is it?"

Ian closed his eyes and played on, immersing himself in the mellowness of each note. "It's a composition from BB King. I hope you've heard of him."

"Yeah, I heard about him one time."

"You should delve deeper into his work."

Sniper sat down beside Ian. "I think I like your guitar playing."

"Thanks, Mr. Mundy."

"It reminds me of all the bluesy tunes that I've listened to on the radio back in Australia."

Ian stopped playing. "You know, I could have been a musician. It's too bad that my occupation got in the way."

Scout asked, "What did you do?"

"I used to assassinate criminals for the Chief of Police."

"That sounds like a lot of hard work."

"Unfortunately, I had to leave because of something terrible that happened last week."

"What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about that right now. Right now, I want to concentrate on the next battle. I bet that million dollar contract is going to come in handy when I go back to Cincinnati."

Sniper asked, "Do you have family here?"

"No, but I have a girlfriend. She's still living at home. When I discovered that a stupendous amount of cash will be rewarded, I thought that maybe my girlfriend and I could run away to our own private getaway."

"That sounds like fun."

"I just wish I get to see her again after all this pandemonium."

"I'm sure you will."

Suddenly, Ian just had a thought. He stared at his guitar as he asked, "Do you know where I can put an amplifier?"

"You have an amplifier?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well, I'm not sure if you can put it here in the lounge."

"How about I put it outside?"

* * *

As the full moon hovered over the silent terrain of Gravel Pit, Ian placed his amplifier on the roof of the final control point. He plugged in his electric guitar and played a few notes for a sound check. The RED Team watched from the outside of the barracks as Ian began to play a hard blues rock song. He called it "Poor Twisted Me." He played a catchy blues riff as he sang:

_Oh, poor twisted me  
Oh, poor twisted me  
I feast on sympathy  
I chew on suffer  
I chew on agony_

_Swallow whole the pain_  
_Oh, it's too good to be_  
_That all this misery_  
_Is just for poor twisted me_  
_Poor twisted me_

_Poor mistreated me_  
_Poor mistreated me_  
_I drown without a sea_  
_Lungs fill with sorrow_  
_Lungs fill with misery_

_Inhaling the deep, dark blue_  
_Oh, woe is me_  
_Such a burden to be_  
_The poor mistreated me_

_To finally reach the shore, survive the storm_  
_Now you're bare and cold, the sea was warm_  
_So warm, you bathe your soul again_

_Baby, again and again and again_

_You finally reached the shore, survived the storm_  
_Now you're bare and cold, the sea was warm_  
_So warm, you bathe your soul again_

_Good to feel my friend_  
_Oh, woe is me_  
_Such a burden to be_  
_Oh, poor twisted me_  
_Oh, poor twisted me_

* * *

Note: "Poor Twisted Me" is actually a bluesy song from Metallica. The lyrics actually belong to James Hetfield.

* * *

ASSASSIN

Real Name: Ian

Age: 37

Race: White

Place of Origin: Cincinnati, Ohio

* * *

Health: 125

Job: Offense

* * *

Appearance: Short black hair, no facial hair, brown eyes

Clothes: Black t-shirt, Black denim jeans, Red/Blue-colored vest

* * *

Sprinting Speed: Moves slower than Scout, and about as fast as Engineer

Weakness: Just like the Scout, the Assassin has low health. Plus, his arsenal is rather lightweight than what the rest of the classes possess (with the exception of Scout). He has no explosive weapons and no heavy artillery. There is one upside: every headshot with his primary weapon is an automatic Mini-Crit.

* * *

Primary Weapon: Dual Pistols

Ammo: 12/12 out of 96 Rounds

Damage: 17 to 25 per round

Crit Damage: 67 to 75 per round

Pro: Very high accuracy; _headshots_ are automatic Mini-Crits

Con: Slow reloading

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Double-Barrel Shotgun

Ammo: 2 out of 30 Rounds

Damage: 9 to 28 per round

Crit Damage: 65 to 84 per round

Pro: Deals more damage than Dual Pistols

Con: Less ammunition

* * *

Melee Weapon: Police Baton

Damage: Up to 45

Crit Damage: Up to 140

* * *

_**Unlock/Drop/Purchase/Craft**_ Items

Primary Weapon: Twin Brothers (Dual Revolvers)

Ammo: 6/6 out of 48 Rounds

Damage: 19 to 27 per round

Crit Damage: 73 to 81 per round

Pro: Deals greater damage to enemies; fast reloading; _headshots_ are automatic Mini-Crits

Con: Less ammunition than Dual Pistols

* * *

Primary Weapon: Good Ol' Garand (M1 Garand Rifle)

Ammo: 8 out of 40 Rounds

Damage: 21 to 30 per round

Crit Damage: 81 to 90 per round

Pro: Deals greater damage to enemies

Con: The rifle has lower accuracy than the Pistols, and the player cannot manually reload

Additional Information: This American weapon is straight from World War II and the Korean War

* * *

Secondary Weapon: I Got the Blues (Poisoned Arrows)

Info: Poisoned Arrows are discharged from a modernized pump-action crossbow. Plus, if an enemy is hit, damage can be prevented by picking up health packs and such, but blurred vision/wobbly movement will remain.

Ammo: 8 in total

Damage: 8 to 14 every one second (total of 11 seconds)

Crit Damage: 36 to 42 every one second

Pro: Gives enemy blurred vision and wobbly movement for 11 seconds

Con: Mildly slow reloading/low ammunition

* * *

Secondary Weapon: Voodoo (Poisoned Darts)

Info: Poisoned Darts are discharged from a bamboo stick. Like the Poisoned Arrows, if an enemy is hit, damage can be prevented by picking up health packs and such, but blurred vision/wobbly movement will still linger.

Ammo: 10 in total

Damage: 6 to 11 every one second (total of 15 seconds)

Crit Damage: 28 to 33 every one second

Pro: Gives enemy blurred vision/wobbly movement for 15 seconds

Con: Mildly slow reloading/low ammunition

Additional Information: This is a gift from his Ecuadorian girlfriend, Teresa

* * *

More SS chapters coming soon...


	46. SS - Sixteen Tons

SHORT STORY

Sixteen Tons

* * *

February, 1969

Nathaniel Ingram waited in his office for the phone call. He stayed in his office all afternoon, anticipating his first strike against Helen Walsh, his newest rival. He had planned this for three months with careful precision. The preparations were completed. He just needed to fulfill certain installations for private surveillance. Since his private meeting with Miss Pauling, Ingram felt that his primary goal grew ever closer towards completion. He sat in his office for a few minutes before the phone rang. He picked it up and heard a familiar voice on the other end.

"_It's me, Walter_."

Walter F. Browne was one of his most trustworthy undercover agents in the business.

"Give me some good news, buddy."

"_The letter is in the mail_."

"Did you make sure that it is signed by Jeremy himself?"

"_Yes, I am sure. And don't worry. It'll look as if we had nothing to do with it_."

Ingram smiled. "I knew that I can depend on you, Walter."

Both hung up. Ingram punched more numbers on his telephone. He waited for Miss Pauling to answer. When she first heard his voice, she sounded a bit tense.

"The letter is on its way, Miss Pauling. I think the RED team will love this little gift from Jeremy."

"_Shouldn't you be worried about the Administrator_?"

"I don't think I'll have to worry about that. The Scout's mother is going to give her a call pretty soon. And you know what happens when she calls."

* * *

Two days later, the enclosed envelope had been sent into the alpine realm of Coldfront. Miss Pauling received it from the mailbox. She recognized it just from the sender's address. She tore open the envelope and read the letter. It was written by Nathaniel Ingram. The letter itself featured specific instructions on how Ingram's employees will plant hidden devices that will provide surveillance on all fifteen RED mercenaries. Also enclosed in the envelope was the gift certificate which would allow the RED team to leave Coldfront for a few hours. Miss Pauling examined it for a few seconds before she threw away the envelope but kept the letter. She kept the gift certificate on her clipboard.

She visited the teammates in the RED Rooms, which were located near Headquarters. She found Medic, Sniper, and Spy playing a game of eight-ball billiards in the Game Room. When the three of them saw her arriving in the room, they stopped concentrating on the game. She showed them the $500 gift certificate for Jeremy's Good Ol' BBQ Buffet.

"It's that time of year again."

Sniper grinned when she handed him the gift certificate. "Oh, yes."

Spy shook his head. "Oh, no. Not again."

Sniper appeared amused. "Come on, mate, why do you hate it when we visit Jeremy's place?"

"I always lose my appetite whenever you pigs stuff yourself with chicken, pork, beef, and fish."

"It's a BBQ buffet. What do you expect? A fine dining restaurant?"

Miss Pauling nodded as she said, "I'll make arrangements for tomorrow night. And I'll make sure that the Administrator will give you the entire day off."

Coldfront was at least five miles away from Denver, Colorado. Jeremy's Good Ol' BBQ Buffet was located in downtown Denver. Miss Pauling would let the RED team use their custom-built Ford Broncos for the trip to downtown Denver. When she left the room, Medic, Sniper, and Spy discussed matters involving the BBQ buffet.

Spy remarked, "It is almost sad. Leonard is going to be devastated. I am sure he has never heard of Jeremy Carmichael."

Sniper replied, "You're right. We haven't visited Jeremy's buffet since the formation of the new cafeteria. Leonard will probably hate us for this."

Medic waved it off by saying, "Oh, let him feel sad. I'm sure he will understand."

"I'm not too sure about that, doctor."

Medic, Sniper, and Spy left the Game Room and headed for the Fitness Center. There, Demoman started his bench presses, Engineer worked his legs with the exercise bike, and Bodyguard used a pair of dumbbells. Engineer had taken off his overalls and wore a short-sleeved cotton t-shirt and black-colored sweatpants. Demoman wore a white undershirt, while Bodyguard wore a long-sleeved hoodie.

Bodyguard noticed a piece of paper in Sniper's left hand. "What is that, may I ask?"

Sniper pointed at the piece of paper. "_This_ is a $500 gift certificate for Jeremy's Good Ol' BBQ Buffet."

"I like the sound of this already. Where is this buffet?"

Engineer stopped riding the exercise bike. "It's somewhere in downtown Denver. We go there at least twice a year. This will be the first time that you and the other recruits will visit this place. I think you'll like it. It has some of the best beef and venison that we've ever tasted."

Bodyguard licked his lips. "Now I'm hungry."

Demoman didn't stop with his bench presses. "It's going to be heaven, lad."

Sniper added, "Miss Pauling is going to let us use the Ford Broncos for tomorrow night."

Bodyguard asked, "Will the Administrator approve of this?"

Engineer laughed. "Of course, she will. She knows that we've been to this buffet plenty of times. And besides, do you know who Saxton Hale is?"

Bodyguard rubbed his chin. "I've heard of him, but I have never met him."

"He's the Australian who is good friends with Jeremy Carmichael. Jeremy's the one who owns this place, if you didn't know it yet. And he's the one who personally delivers all these gift certificates to us."

"I think I understand now. But what about Leonard? How will he feel once he realizes that he and the other chefs won't be serving us tomorrow night?"

Demoman finally ceased his bench pressing. "I'm sure he'll understand."

"And what if he doesn't?"

"Then he'll just have to buy himself a box of tissues."

* * *

The RED team prepared to leave for Denver the next day. As the late afternoon sun still hovered over Mann Co.'s alpine dominion, Miss Pauling inspected the five Ford Broncos and made sure that the mercenaries had enough space for each vehicle. Meanwhile, the entire RED team had taken off their uniforms and put on more casual attire: just t-shirts, jackets, pants, and gloves. Femme Fatale settled with her long skirt, which seemed to have a positive effect on the now beardless Outlaw.

When Weatherman finished putting on his black t-shirt and brown pants, he asked Engineer, "Is Mr. Carmichael a nice guy, or should we look out for our own butts?"

Engineer replied, "Don't worry, Shane. He's a nice guy. We've gotten to know him for the past few years. He used to fight in the Korean War."

"Maybe it's a bad idea to bring both Jason and Yvonne along."

Engineer chuckled. "Their parents are from _Mongolia_. And besides, I don't think Jeremy will mind a few more customers for his _good ol' buffet_."

Once inside the garage, the RED team discussed on who should be the drivers for this evening. Soldier and Engineer had already been chosen, but the group was skeptical about Demoman's ability to drive a Ford Bronco. He tried to persuade his teammates, but they just didn't budge. As everyone tried to figure out who would sit next to who, Weatherman kept giving brief glances at Miss Pauling, who kept his eyes on her clipboard. She stood right next to the automobiles, and it looked as if she tried to keep her eyes on her clipboard. Either she wanted to look at the RED team or she tried to solve a problem on her clipboard. What Weatherman didn't realize was that she stared at Mr. Ingram's most previous letter. She still felt torn between her dedication to Mann Co. and redemption granted by Ingram himself. When she finally looked up, she could see Weatherman giving her a concerned look. She quickly cleared her throat and told the entire RED team to hurry up and finish their seating arrangements.

When the mercenaries finished up their meeting, the drivers turned on the engines and waited for them to warm up. Weatherman still gazed at Miss Pauling, who still tried to hide her true feelings.

He walked up to her and asked, "Is there a problem, Miss Pauling?"

She shook her head as she said, "It's nothing serious. You should have nothing to worry about."

"Are you certain?"

She tried to smile. "I'm sure of it. Now, you should go. You don't want to be left behind."

Weatherman gave a little smile. "We'll see you later, Miss Pauling."

He turned away and joined his teammates as they gathered inside the five automobiles. Once the engines had been properly warmed up, the RED team left the garage. They took the paved road that led them away from Coldfront, and they headed straight for Denver.

Miss Pauling, with her gloves and beanie, could only watch as the five Ford Broncos grew smaller until they disappeared deeper into the mountains of Colorado. Now, all she could do was wait for Ingram's arrival.

She wandered all around RED Headquarters. The concept of secret surveillance had been the only thing she could think about. She tried hard to decipher how she could trust Ingram into getting what he wanted from RED and especially TF Industries overall. She gave a deep sigh as she began to feel a bit too warm. She left RED Headquarters and returned to the front entrance of Coldfront. She waited for a few more minutes until she spotted a few black vans heading towards her direction. She knew that the black vans belonged to Nathaniel Ingram since he had mentioned it in his latest letter.

The black vans parked right in front of the entrance. Mr. Ingram revealed himself in one of the passenger seats. He wore the same thing when he first met her back in Barnblitz: a thick coat that covered his business suit. He informed his group, which consisted of both men and women dressed in black, that they had at least three hours to install certain devices inside RED territory. They carried their equipment once they walked inside RED Headquarters.

Mr. Ingram gave Miss Pauling a little grin as he said, "Don't worry about Administrator. She's on the phone with Scout's mother."

"Why would it take so long?"

"Scout's mother is always worried about her _precious little boy_. You have no idea how long she can complain to Helen Walsh. Sometimes, it could even last eight hours."

"What about Saxton Hale? You know he'll never hear the end of this."

"I've taken care of him, too. He's in the middle of an investigation from the Australian government. They're questioning him for tax evasion...something that I made up specifically for this occasion. He'll probably escape from the authorities in about a week."

"How can you go so far with this?"

Ingram gave her a solemn glance. "That's because I _need_ TF Industries. I need it for my private operations. This company has all the military equipment I need for the projects in Asia and South America."

"You never mentioned what sort of projects that you're working on."

"That's because it's top secret. I'd advise you to keep your mouth shut if you don't want to work in the Brazilian mines for the rest of your life."

Miss Pauling closed her eyes and sighed. "If you _do_ take over TF Industries, will I receive permanent amnesty?"

"I can assure you that it will happen."

"But what about Helen Walsh? What will the Administrator do about this?"

She opened her eyes and saw Ingram forming a completely devilish grin. "She'll have to settle with an empty stomach."

"I'm still not so sure if I can do this to Mann Co."

"You can do this. You know, deep down inside, that you'll find your newfound salvation as an indisputable paradise."

* * *

As the late afternoon sun descended even lower for its nightly absence, the RED mercenaries exited the jagged mountains and reached the city of Denver. It would take them at least a few more minutes before they parked their Fords in front of Jeremy's Good Ol' BBQ Buffet. The chilly atmosphere of late winter didn't distract the mercenaries from their present enthusiasm as they walked into the eatery. They waited in line that had already formed in the hallway for a few more minutes. Sniper pointed out the scrumptious-looking food in the dining room to Outlaw and Femme Fatale.

Femme Fatale gave a curious glance as she said, "Perhaps I should eat light."

Sniper replied, "I don't think you have much to worry about when it comes to your appetite. They give out free bottles of Pepto-Bismol when you're finished."

A hint of sarcasm was added as Femme Fatale remarked, "Oh, how delightful."

"Though I would better be careful. Heavy tends to drink it all when he's had too much of the roast duck."

Engineer took care of the bill. He handed the gift certificate to the female cashier. She examined it and nodded to Engineer.

"How many will attend?"

Engineer replied, "A total of fifteen customers."

"That'll be two-hundred-and-thirty dollars."

Engineer smiled. The RED team still had money left over. "That's fine by us."

The cashier added, "How many tables will you need for tonight, Mr. Conagher?"

"Oh, I'd say about five tables."

Once money had been spent with the gift certificate, the server led the RED mercenaries to their five circular tables. Scout sat with Rocketeer and Assassin. Sniper sat with Outlaw and Femme Fatale. Medic sat with Heavy and Bodyguard. Engineer sat with Demoman and Weatherman. Soldier sat with Pyro and Spy.

Soldier noticed that Pyro kept his gas mask on even as he wore his green jacket and blue jeans.

Soldier asked, "Why aren't you taking that off?"

Pyro raised and finger and said, "Mmmhmm-rmmhmmhmmrmmm."

"Did you just say you like listening to Mendelssohn?"

Spy remarked, "He said that he's keeping his mask on because he has a bit of a cold. He doesn't want to spread his germs all over the place."

Soldier scratched the side of his head. "How the hell are you gonna eat dinner, then?"

Pyro replied, "Mmmhmm."

"What?"

"Mmmhmm-mmhmmemmmrmm."

"...Never mind."

Meanwhile, the rest of the RED mercenaries gathered around at the sideboards to collect their food. Heavy wasted no time in collecting an entire roast duck on his plate. Soldier and Engineer dug their tongs into the pile of BBQ ribs. Scout, Assassin, and Rocketeer gathered mashed potatoes and corn on the cob on their plates before they went straight for the lamb chops. Spy felt disappointed that the buffet still didn't feature frog legs, so he went for the roast turkey legs instead. Engineer took a bottle of A1 Steak Sauce and poured almost half of it on his porterhouse steak.

Everyone was almost set. Femme Fatale started to wonder why nobody chose to have fruit salad on their plates, until Outlaw whispered in her ear, "Have you honestly ever seen any one of us eating a _fruit salad_?"

Femme Fatale kept quiet after that.

Everyone returned to their tables.

Soldier couldn't help but glance at Spy, who took his mask off but kept his business suit on.

The American remarked, "You know, you didn't have to wear that. This is a buffet, not a fine-dining restaurant."

The Frenchman replied, "I'd like to be myself wherever I go."

"So you always like to be a pompous jackass wherever you go?"

Spy only sniggered at that sarcastic question.

Bodyguard observed the entire roast duck that Heavy held on his plate. "Are you sure you would want to eat the entire bird?"

Medic whispered in his ear, "You should never question him when he is eating a duck."

For most of the time, the mercenaries talked amongst each other, which seemed almost noisy to the other customers. But it didn't matter to the RED team. They just enjoyed themselves as they ate dinner and discussed trivial matters such as sports and entertainment.

As he sliced a piece of roast chicken with his knife, Engineer asked Weatherman about what he had just seen this afternoon. "What was going on between you and Miss Pauling?"

Weatherman shrugged his shoulders. "It's nothing. I just asked her if something was wrong."

"You know, I've noticed that you couldn't keep your eyes off her."

"It's because there's something suspicious about her."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, just a few weeks ago at Barnblitz, I saw her outside at late night. I asked her why she would be outside in the freezing cold, and she sounded frustrated about something. I don't know what, but something's fishy about this."

Demoman remarked, "I think I understand. You're curious because you think she's cute."

"No, that's not it."

Engineer smiled. "I don't think you should be dishonest to some of your closest friends. I think you're experiencing some casual attractions."

Weatherman replied, "If I am, then maybe you shouldn't interfere with my personal life."

"We don't have any surveillance cameras, do we?"

"Well, no."

"We're not grilling you, Shane. We're just having a little chat about you and Miss Pauling."

Weatherman gave up on dishonesty. "Okay, so it's a little crush. Laugh all you want, but I think I've got a chance."

Demoman gave a devious little grin. "You've got as much chance as the Russian losing weight by the end of this month."

Weatherman detected sarcasm in his voice. "Thanks very much, Mr. DeGroot."

Engineer added, "Let's not be too pessimistic about our new friend here. He might have a chance...if Miss Pauling actually knows about it."

"And if she does, I might get lucky."

Meanwhile, Heavy watched as Bodyguard began to cut a huge chunk of roast beef with his knife.

"Should you be careful with beef?"

Bodyguard replied, "There's nothing for me to worry about."

"But what about health? You had heart attack one month ago."

"I know that, but it should never bother me. I'm still alive."

Medic added, "Optimism is most important."

Bodyguard nodded. "Yes, and that is why I'm going to need some Pepto-Bismol after this."

Heavy murmured, "Maybe you should wait until _I_ am finished."

At the other side of the dining room, Soldier took his time chewing on a piece of venison. Suddenly, someone bumped into him, causing an entire tray of plates to break as they fell on the floor. Soldier turned around to see a waiter apologizing for disrupting his dinner. But Soldier didn't focus on the plates. He took his time gazing at the young brown-haired waiter, who looked rather handsome. But then, Soldier cleared his throat and said, "That's all right, sir. It doesn't bother me one bit."

The waiter went on to clean the mess he made. Soldier tried to concentrate on his own plate, and he tried hard not to stare at the waiter again.

Spy asked him, "Is there something wrong?"

Soldier found this the perfect time to change the subject. "You're always slow when you're eating dinner."

Spy replied, "It's called manners. You should try to study it some time."

With a napkin on his shirt collar, Spy cut through the roast turkey leg in a slow manner. He looked so calm. This didn't sit well with Soldier, who remarked, "You Frenchmen make me sick."

Pyro, on the other hand, still didn't take his mask off. He opened up one of the air filters so he could stuff food into his hidden mouth.

Soldier whispered, "People are giving you strange looks. Maybe it's time you take your mask off."

Pyro just shook his head.

* * *

An hour had passed, and the fifteen mercenaries had finished their scrumptious feast. Some of them thought of having a little dessert, while the others decided to stay in their seats and linger.

Outlaw finished his drink. "I can't believe you only visit this place twice a year. You should do it more often."

Sniper commented. "Unfortunately, it's a rule made by the Administrator. We can't leave our station that often."

"It's sad, really. Anyway, I'm going to get myself a piece of cheesecake."

Outlaw stood up from the table and was about to head straight for the sideboards. But then, he accidentally bumped into another customer. Outlaw apologized for any inconvenience.

But the customer, a middle-aged man wearing a red trucker cap, didn't take it to heart. "Watch where you goin', you nutcase."

Outlaw didn't feel offended. "You shall not worry, my friend. I've learned my lesson."

"And don't call me your friend. I don't like it when Mexicans like you say something stupid."

Sniper kept a watchful eye as Outlaw replied, "Actually, I'm from Argentina."

The man in the red cap added more sarcasm in his tone of voice. "Oh, good for you, _buddy_. Now get out of my face. You're making my friends uncomfortable."

Femme Fatale walked up to Outlaw and said to the man in the red cap, "Please, let us not start an argument."

The red cap blurted, "Shut your mouth, woman! Why don't you go back to the Middle East with the rest of the sand worshippers?"

Femme Fatale narrowed her eyes. "For your information, _sir_, I am from Sri Lanka."

"Whatever, it's all the same. You all badmouth Jesus Christ and you start decapitating children who disobey their parents. Not much of a paradise, don't you think?"

Engineer couldn't take it any longer. He stood up from his seat and said, "You watch yourself, sir. You don't want to start something bad around here."

"Oh, I'll stop talking until these two parasites go back to where they came from."

"Don't test our patience."

"What are you gonna do, buddy? Are you gonna call the police and tell them that I've been harassing two illegal immigrants for no good reason?"

Sniper quickly stood up from his seat. "I don't think we have time for fighting words."

The man in the red cap asked, "And how the hell do you think we handle this?"

Engineer clenched his fists and said, "Like this!"

He punched the man in the red cap right in the face. His friends began to lunge toward Engineer, but both Heavy and Bodyguard dodged them right in time. The man in the red cap picked up a knife and yelled, "I ain't gonna die because of this!"

"Good for you!"

Femme Fatale kicked the knife away and punched him in the torso. He collapsed on the floor. In just a few seconds, the red cap's friends began to use their fists against Engineer, Heavy, and Bodyguard. The rest of the RED team began to fight those who wanted to join in on the aggressively physical confrontation. The waiters, busboys, and cashiers ran away as they tried to prevent flying objects and charging maniacs.

* * *

Fortunately, the fight didn't last long. Jeremy Carmichael, the owner of the BBQ buffet, called the police just before the first fist hit human skin. Once the cops arrived, Jeremy placed the blame on the man in the red cap and his friends. They were taken away. But the RED team didn't leave unscathed. Jeremy ordered them to clean up the mess that had been made in his restaurant. He wanted the six new recruits to wash dishes and clean out the fridge, while the rest of the RED team had to clean up the dining room. The rest of the customers had to leave since the restaurant was now unexpectedly closed, though Jeremy apologized as he handed them complimentary drinks.

As he began to pick up broken dishes and cups in the dining room, Sniper remarked, "Well, this went rather well."

Spy sighed. "This is such a humiliating event."

"Of course, it is. This would be the last place that we would make a mess of. I just hope Jeremy will forgive us for this."

Scout sounded confident when he said, "Oh, I'm sure he will. We're good friends with him, remember?"

Half an hour later, Jeremy Carmichael arrived in the dining room, observing the rest of the RED team cleaning up broken plates and rearranging chairs & tables. Judging from the look on his face, the man seemed content with the current progression. Half of the dining room was now clean and almost devoid of debris.

"Well, I must say that I admire your dedication."

Scout leaned on his broom and gave a little grin. "We always do our best, buddy."

Jeremy nodded. "Here's what I'll do. I'll let you go early."

That almost caught Medic by surprise. "Wonderful!"

Scout chuckled. "That's good, man. If we went on a little longer, Yvonne would probably never forgive me for this."

Jeremy asked, "She's that Chinese woman, am I right?"

"Actually, she's Mongolian...actually, her _parents_ are Mongolian."

"I don't care."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't think you will have much to worry about her."

"What do you mean?"

"The six new recruits are the ones in the kitchen, am I right?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"That's good, because I'm going to make them clean the rest of this mess for you."

"Come on, man. You don't have to do that. She's not _that_ bad."

"I'm not just talking about your girlfriend. I'm talking about all six of them. They're going to spend the rest of the night in this restaurant."

Spy asked, "Why would you do such a thing?"

Jeremy replied, "You did nothing to deserve it. The Outlaw started the fight. He and his friends should face the penalties."

Scout appeared confused. "That ain't true, man. That freakin' man in the red cap started the fight. You shouldn't blame Miguel for this."

Jeremy folded his arms across his chest. "Well, I _am_. I think that cleaning up my entire restaurant is proper punishment for your new recruits."

"Hey, I don't understand. Did Miguel talk crap about you or something?"

"It's not what he said. It's what he _is_ that irks me. Now, go on. It's time for all of you to go home and take a rest from all this pandemonium."

The other RED teammates stopped sweeping the floors and rearranging the furniture and stared at Jeremy.

Medic asked, "How is Miguel irking you, good sir?"

Jeremy replied, "I don't appreciate people who insult the origin of our good people."

Engineer felt a bit confused. "He's never done anything like that."

Scout raised his hands. "Hey, Jeremy, why don't you try to talk to us in layman's terms just this once?"

Jeremy nodded. "All right, then. Your six new friends in the kitchen aren't worthy of being customers in my restaurant."

Soldier raised his eyebrows. "And just what do you mean by that?"

"I don't accept foreigners."

Medic asked, "Then why are you not kicking me and the Heavy out?"

"I said _foreigners_, Mr. Wegner, not friends."

Scout scratched his head. "Oh, I get it. You don't like our new friends because they're a bit _different_ from us."

"It's not just that. Slant-eyed cat eaters like your girlfriend make me sick."

"Hey, don't talk about Yvonne like that!"

"All right, then. I'll say something about that crazed Saudi Arabian who doesn't know how to use soap on himself."

Engineer shouted, "That's enough, Jeremy! My goodness, I didn't think you'd be so disrespectful towards the new recruits."

"Well, if you knew me long enough, you would know that I don't appreciate true troublemakers."

Demoman stepped in. "How come you didn't say anything about _me_?"

Jeremy replied, "That's because my parents are from Scotland."

Demoman suddenly smiled. "_Really_?"

Soldier cleared his throat as he grabbed Demoman by the shoulders. Both Engineer and Spy gave the Scotsman narrowed glances.

Scout shook his head as he said, "I didn't think I'd get to see the true side of ya, Jeremy."

"And now you have. Go home. Your six new friends will take care of the rest of this mess."

The RED mercenaries stayed still.

Sniper picked up his broom again. "I think I'm going to stay here for awhile."

Engineer raised a finger. "Count me in, buddy."

Soon, all nine mercenaries agreed to stay here and finish cleaning up the dining room.

Jeremy just shrugged his shoulders. "If that's what you want, then that's what you'll get. I still don't understand why you would be so fond of any of these immigrants in my kitchen."

Engineer replied, "I don't think you'll ever understand, _good sir_."

* * *

They left the restaurant as soon as they finished cleaning up Jeremy's Good Ol' BBQ Buffet. The six new recruits joined them in the parking lot. The evening gloom centered over the heart of Denver. Street lights and illuminated skyscrapers proved to be the more useful sources of the city's enlightenment. The skies were clear, but the streets and sidewalks still held piles of snow.

Rocketeer put on his gloves as he said, "Jeremy seems like a nice guy. He didn't say anything negative to us while we were in the kitchen."

Sniper sighed. "That's good, because you wouldn't have like him when he opened his mouth to say something."

Assassin asked, "Why? What did he say?"

"You don't want to know."

Soldier stared at the gift certificate that he held in his hands. "Do you think we should come back here?"

Weatherman shrugged his shoulders. "I don't see why not."

Sniper exclaimed, "To tell you the truth, Jeremy doesn't get along with...people like you."

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

"He doesn't like certain immigrants."

Femme Fatale murmured, "So he is a racist."

"I'm afraid so."

Bodyguard sounded annoyed, "If that is the case, then it is pretty obvious that we should never come here again."

Demoman rubbed his chin. "I don't think so...we still have a bit more to use with that gift certificate."

"What do you suggest we do? Are you going to return to the buffet without _us_?"

"...It's a possibility, lad. I mean, the lamb chops are delicious."

Engineer placed his hand on Demoman's shoulder and said, "I'm sure Leonard would cook it the same way."

Soldier put the gift certificate in his pocket. "Whatever. We can use it again just in case we want to order out."

The six new recruits gave a complete lack of response, all except for Femme Fatale. "So Jeremy does delivery?"

"If he doesn't, we can do a little interrogation."

"That is fine with me."

Engineer checked his watch. "It's only seven-thirty. We're two-and-a-half hours ahead of schedule."

Femme Fatale asked, "What does that mean?"

"It means we've got two-and-a-half hours of free time before we head back to base."

Rocketeer looked around. "What do you think we should do for two-and-a-half hours?"

Something caught Engineer's attention. A three-story building was situated across the street. On the marquee read that a famous singer would be hosting the dance party for the rest of the evening.

"Well, would you look at that?"

The RED mercenaries gazed at the marquee. Assassin asked, "Who is Ernie Ford?"

Engineer chuckled. "You gotta learn your pop culture, missy. 'Tennessee' Ernie Ford is one of the greatest singers in the entire country."

Outlaw gazed at the club across the street. "And he is here tonight. We must be very lucky."

Scout didn't look impressed. "Well, you go ahead and listen to this guy sing. I'm gonna go find a different type of club."

Assassin stood right next to him. "Count me in."

In a few minutes, everyone separated and used the Ford Broncos to take different directions in downtown Denver. Heavy and Sniper joined Engineer as they walked across the street and entered the building where "Tennessee" Ernie Ford was performing. Once inside, the three of them sat at a booth and watched as the legendary Ernie Ford took the stage with his acoustic guitar. He wore a black tuxedo as he began to play a slow melody entitled "Wayfaring Stranger." As he plucked the strings, he began to sing with his recognizable baritone resonance:

_I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger  
I'm traveling through this world of woe  
Yet there's no sickness, toil nor danger  
In that bright land to which I go  
I'm going there to see my father  
I'm going there no more to roam  
I'm going over Jordan  
I'm going over home_

_I know dark clouds will gather 'round me_  
_I know my way is rough and steep_  
_Yet golden fields lie just before me_  
_Where God's redeemed shall ever sleep_  
_I'm going there to see my mother_  
_She said she'd meet me when I come_  
_I'm going over Jordan_  
_I'm going over home_

_I want to wear a crown of glory_  
_When I get home to that good land_  
_I want to shout salvation's story_  
_In concert with the blood-washed band_

_I'm going there to meet my Savior  
to sing his praise forever more  
I'm just going over Jordan  
I'm just going over home_

The audience applauded once he finished.

Sniper whispered in Engineer's ear, "He's good, but he's no Johnny Cash."

Ernie Ford stood in front of a microphone and spoke, "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you."

As the applause slowly died down, he exclaimed, "Now, folks, I am going to try something completely different. I'm going to sing the next song, but I would like someone from the audience to play the guitar for me. It's all right if you're nervous, but I hope you know how to play this here instrument. The song is entitled 'The Ballad of Davy Crockett'."

Engineer quickly raised his hand. Ernie Ford spotted him. "You, sir, in the back row, do you know how to play the guitar?"

Engineer stood up and replied, "I've been playing it for most of my life, sir."

Ernie Ford gave a smile. "All right, now. Come on up. Don't be nervous now."

The audience clapped their hands as Engineer walked away from the booth and onto the stage.

Ernie Ford asked, "Tell me your name, please."

"My name is Conagher."

"Well, Mr. Conagher, how does it feel being on stage?"

Engineer shrugged his shoulders. "It feels okay, I guess."

Ernie Ford handed him his acoustic guitar and asked if he knew "The Ballad of Davy Crockett."

Engineer enthusiastically responded, "Heck, yeah! My own father taught me how to play that one."

"All right, now. Follow me."

Engineer tuned the acoustic guitar as Ernie Ford snapped his fingers to the rhythm of the song. Engineer played the first few notes of the song. Ernie Ford started singing:

_Born on a mountain in Tennessee  
Greenest state in the land of the free  
Raised in the woods so he knew every tree  
He killed him a bear when he was only three_

_Davy, Davy Crockett, king of the wild frontier!_

_Fought single-handed through the Injun war_  
_Until the Creeks was whipped and the peace was in store_  
_And while he was handling this risky chore_  
_Made himself a legend forever more_

_Davy, Davy Crockett, the man who doesn't know fear!_

_When he lost his love, his grief was gall_  
_In his heart, he wanted to leave it all_  
_And lose himself in the forest tall_  
_But he answered, instead, his country's call_

_Davy, Davy Crockett, the choice of the whole frontier!_

_He went off to Congress and served a spell_  
_Fixing up the government and laws as well_  
_Took over Washington, so I hear tell_  
_And patched up a crack in the Liberty Bell_

_Davy, Davy Crockett, seein' his duty clear!_

_When he came home, his politics been done_  
_Why, the big western march had just begun_  
_So he packed his gear and his trusty gun_  
_And let out a grin to follow the sun_

_Davy, Davy Crockett, leadin' the pioneer!_

_His land is the biggest, his land is the best_  
_From grassy plains to the mountain crest_  
_He's ahead of us all and meetin' the test_  
_And followin' his legend right into the west_

_Davy, Davy Crockett, king of the wild frontier!_

When the song ended, the audience applauded once again. Heavy and Sniper stood up and cheered for Engineer. Ernie Ford shook hands with the Texan, who admitted that it was so good to meet such a legendary singer. When Engineer left the stage, Ernie Ford continued to plays songs from his setlist.

* * *

Everyone left the building as soon as Ernie Ford finished his performance. Engineer, Heavy, and Sniper stayed inside and had a little chat with the singer. They sat at the same booth as before. The busboys cleaned the tables and rearranged the chairs. It was half past eight, which meant that the three mercenaries still had time to get to know Ernie Ford before returning to Coldfront. Engineer, Heavy, and Sniper got to know more about Ernie Ford. He discussed matters regarding his place of origin, his love for the arts, and even his appearance on _I Love Lucy_. Later on, Ernie Ford wanted to know more about the musician that played with him on stage.

"So what do you do for a living, Mr. Conagher?"

Engineer didn't want to lie, but he still had to protect the secrecy of Mann Co. "Oh, I'm an engineer."

"What sort of engineering do you do?"

"I build certain things. The things that I construct are for people who need it the most."

"What do you build?"

"Oh, I build dispensers and such."

Ernie Ford nodded. "It must be hard work."

"Oh, it is."

"Do your friends build the same thing?"

"Oh, no. They do different stuff when I'm around. Mr. Mundy looks out for trespassers, while Boris...well, he spends money on equipment that's needed for our workforce."

Ernie Ford rubbed his chin. "It sounds very interesting. You must all love your work."

"We sure do."

"How much do you get paid on commission?"

Engineer raised an eyebrow. "Commission?"

"Yes, how much do you get paid for your work?"

Engineer shifted in his seat. "Actually...we haven't been paid yet."

Ernie Ford looked genuinely puzzled. "You mean who haven't even been paid a cent?"

Engineer shook his head.

Ernie Ford blurted, "Now what kind of a thick-headed boss would do such a thing?"

Sniper raised a hand. "I wouldn't say such negative things about our boss. It's not that we're afraid. It's just that our boss hasn't done anything negative when it comes to our work."

"Your boss should at least hand you a salary once a week."

Engineer replied, "Oh, it'll take awhile before she hands us our salary. You see...our contract is worth at least a million dollars. Once we finish our objectives, she's going to give us the money that we worked hard for all at once."

Ernie Ford still looked bewildered. "That doesn't sound like suitable management to me."

"Well, it's kinda complicated once you delve deeper into our world."

"Tell me something, Mr. Conagher. Have you seen the money with your own eyes?"

"No, but I heard it's all stacked and hidden in our Administrator's office."

Ernie Ford could only shake his head with shame. "I think it's time you quit your job."

"We can't do that. We've got a whole lot of things to fulfill. And besides, we can trust our Administrator."

"Can you, really? You know, I may not be a political man, but I'm smart enough to know that you're probably being lured into a life of eternal damnation."

"Whatever you say, Mr. Ford, but I'm sticking with my current job."

Sniper added, "Yeah, we're comfortable with where we're working. And that's the truth, mate."

Ford replied, "Well...I can see that you're enthusiastic about your occupations. I respect your decisions, but know this. Business can be such a cunning trick used by powerful people. It'll force you to sell your soul to corporations that know nothing but money. If you truly believe that you will receive a million dollars, then that means you probably owe your soul to 'the company store'."

"What do you mean by the 'company store'?"

"Let me sing it for you and you can figure it out yourself."

Ernie Ford picked up his guitar once again and started singing a song entitled "Sixteen Tons."

_Some people say a man is made out of mud  
A poor man's made out of muscle and blood  
Muscle and blood and skin and bones  
A mind that's weak and a back that's strong_

_You load sixteen tons, what do you get_  
_Another day older and deeper in debt_  
_Saint Peter, don't you call me 'cause I can't go_  
_I owe my soul to the company store_

_I was born one mornin' when the sun didn't shine_  
_I picked up my shovel and I walked to the mine_  
_I loaded sixteen tons of number nine coal_  
_And the straw boss said "Well, bless my soul"_

_You load sixteen tons, what do you get_  
_Another day older and deeper in debt_  
_Saint Peter, don't you call me 'cause I can't go_  
_I owe my soul to the company store_

_I was born one mornin', it was drizzling rain_  
_Fightin' and trouble are my middle name_  
_I was raised in the canebrake by an old mama lion_  
_Ain't no high-toned woman make me walk the line_

_You load sixteen tons, what do you get_  
_Another day older and deeper in debt_  
_Saint Peter, don't you call me 'cause I can't go_  
_I owe my soul to the company store_

_If you see me comin', better step aside_  
_A lot of men didn't, a lot of men died_  
_One fist of iron, the other of steel_  
_If the right one don't get you, then the left one will_

_You load sixteen tons, what do you get_  
_Another day older and deeper in debt_  
_Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go_  
_I owe my soul to the company store_

When he finished, Ernie Ford asked, "Do you understand what I mean?"

Engineer thought about it for a long while. "...I guess I do."

* * *

Nathaniel Ingram's team had finished installing devices in and around the RED side of Coldfront. They returned to their vans and prepared to leave Colorado. But Ingram didn't want to leave just yet. At the front entrance to Mann territory, he met up with Miss Pauling. He told her that if she informed the Administrator of Ingram's surveillance, then Pauling would be severely punished for breaking an oath.

She asked, "Will I find redemption through you?"

Ingram smiled. "Your salvation will be divine. I have to go now. The RED team will return from Denver in about half an hour. I'll be seeing you again."

Miss Pauling could only say, "...Goodbye, Mr. Ingram."

Ingram and his team drove away in their vans, leaving Miss Pauling alone at the front entrance. She watched as the distant headlights disappeared behind a mountainside. The evening grew even colder by the minute, and the only thing Miss Pauling could think of was if she made the right decision.

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *

Note: Ernie Ford's performance of "Wayfaring Stranger," "The Ballad of Davy Crockett," and "Sixteen Tons" are available on YouTube.


	47. SS - Love Hurts

SHORT STORY

Love Hurts

* * *

February, 1969

There would always be a lazy Sunday in Coldfront. Usually on the last day of the weekend, the RED team would spend the day in the RED rooms. A few would compete against each other with a game of billiards, while others would sit on the sofas in the TV Room and watch pretty much anything from game shows to live sports broadcasts. Femme Fatale had something else in mind. Soon after she visited the Snack Room for a fresh cup of green tea, she walked up the stairs and made her way up to the rooftop of the RED Base. She wanted to observe the distant mountains of Colorado in peace, something which she has rarely done since she was brought in to Mann Co. nearly seven months ago. All winter long, she had never immersed herself in the grand exquisiteness of Colorado's towering presentation simply because she was too busy fighting in the battle zone. She was now alone. She had another chance at viewing the natural territory, from the snow-filled mountaintops to the dazzling alpine trees.

She enjoyed herself with the scenic view and her cup of green tea. All of a sudden, she caught a sidelong glance at the Administrator arriving on the rooftop of the RED Base. The old woman wore a thick white-colored coat and a pair of black pants. She also held a coffee mug of her own in her right hand.

"Do you mind if I join you, Victoria?"

Femme Fatale replied, "I do not mind at all, though I do wonder why you would expose yourself during such a tranquil day."

"I can't find any birds to feed in this time of year."

"I suppose that is a more logical reason."

The two of them stood next to each other as they viewed the distant mountains.

Administrator took a sip from her mug before she asked, "So have you adapted to your new environment?"

"The procedure is complete. I find myself absolute satisfaction as I befriend the entire RED Team."

Administrator had her eyes on the diamond necklace that was around Femme Fatale's neck. "I can see that now. You're still wearing the necklace."

Femme Fatale looked down at her necklace as she held it in her fingers. "How do you know about this?"

"I have seen the way the Outlaw looks at you for the past several months. And also, you seem to forget about my surveillance cameras."

Femme Fatale smiled. "Miguel is such a wonderful person. You should keep him on the RED Team."

Administrator sniggered. "I haven't seen you in such high spirits before."

"It is because I have never met someone that I am so passionate about."

"That's because he still doesn't know what you've done in the past."

That made Femme Fatale give herself a frown on her face. "I wish you would not bring that up."

"I am bringing it up as a warning. You must try not to play around with Miguel's authentic affections."

"But I am not."

"Once he discovers what you've done in South Asia, he might have some doubts."

"Why should he? There is a reason why he calls himself the 'Outlaw'. His criminal record is just as astounding as mine. And besides, I would not worry about his reaction towards my own past."

"You sound almost certain of that."

"I just wish you would give me a chance at true love. I never complained to you when you spent time with Franklin Gallagher."

Administrator looked down at her coffee mug. "That's because he didn't waste his time on assassinations and such."

"Let us not start on that, Helen. I wish you would feel glad that I finally found someone that I truly adore besides you."

Administrator gave a half smile. "I will only feel that way once Miguel discovers the truth about your exotic escapades."

* * *

"How many screenplays have you finished so far?"

"I think I lost count, lad."

Once Rocketeer and Assassin paid Demoman a visit in his bedroom, they immediately noticed the countless stacks of paper on his desk. Demoman continued to press keys on the typewriter that he had borrowed from the Hollywood siblings. It didn't look like he would stop writing anytime soon.

Assassin asked, "How kind of screenplays did you work on?"

Demoman kept his eyes on the typewriter as he said, "I don't know. I can't remember. All I know is that I've got a few more ideas for a bagpipe commercial."

Rocketeer skimmed through the first page of a random script. "I'm a little amazed that you've gotten this far."

"Remember what you said, Jason. I have to start small, and I'm doing just that."

"Maybe we should talk about which script we should use first for filming."

"I already have my mind set on a commercial for Sniper's camper van."

"That could work."

Demoman stopped writing. "If it does work, then I would have the opportunity to experience a bit of fame."

"My sister and I will support you all the way."

Demoman laughed. "That's good, because I'm proud to be friends with close connections from Hollywood."

"Don't try to suck up to us, DeGroot."

Demoman cracked his knuckles and began typing again. "I'm not. I'm just giving a little compliment."

Assassin replied, "Well, thanks."

The Scotsman added, "You two must work really well together, seeing as how you've achieved a bit of your own fame in Hollywood."

Rocketeer raised a hand. "It's just a job."

"Still, it's sort of natural to have brothers and sisters competing against each other. It's refreshing to see the two of you not even giving a damn about your creative differences."

Rocketeer and Assassin glanced at each other. They did have creative differences, but their similarities seemed even worse.

Demoman asked, "Did I say something wrong, lads?"

Assassin shook her head. "No...it's just that you reminded us about something that happened about a year ago."

"What happened?"

Rocketeer interrupted them. "It's nothing important. We had a little mishap, and we're still trying to get over it. We'd do our parents proud if we did. Isn't that right, Yvonne?"

Assassin narrowed her eyes. "That's right, Jason."

Demoman pulled the piece of paper out from the typewriter. "It wasn't the heartbreaking type, was it?"

Rocketeer looked away. "I wouldn't describe it that way."

"Then how would you describe it?"

"I'm kinda thirsty right now. I'm going to the Snack Room to get a soda."

Rocketeer left the room without saying another word.

Demoman asked Assassin, "What's the matter with him?"

To which Assassin replied, "He's just thinking of making amends."

* * *

Something bothered Demoman all day, and it wasn't about his screenplays or the Hollywood siblings. He wanted to have a little chat with his good friend, the Soldier. He visited the American in his room. Engineer, Soldier's current roommate, was out of the building, so Demoman had a chance to talk to Soldier alone. He found him sitting at the desk and reading _Moby Dick_ by Herman Melville.

"Hello, DeGroot."

"Hey there, Troy."

Demoman closed the door behind him. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall. "So how is the book?"

"I hope Captain Ahab gets that lousy whale at the end. The mammal is obviously a radical atheist."

"I think you'll be a bit disappointed."

"_Please_ don't tell me how it ends."

"Don't worry. I won't."

Soldier closed the book and asked, "So what brings you here?"

"Something has been bugging me. I might sound a wee bit troublesome, but it has to do with that photo that you showed me two weeks ago."

"You mean the photograph of Florence?"

"Aye...you see, I think I've seen that picture before."

Soldier shifted in his seat. "Maybe you're confusing Florence with someone else."

Demoman raised a finger. "No, no, no, I remember all right. I've seen that woman in a magazine. I'm trying to remember which one.

He snapped his fingers. "Oh, yes! She's from the July issue of _Wild Cats Magazine_. I've been a subscriber for twenty years, lad. You can't fool me."

Soldier set his eyes on the floor. "Okay, so it's a lie. Are you gonna give me the death penalty?"

"Of course, not. I'm just wondering why you would lie about such a thing...unless your real girlfriend is quite hideous-looking."

"That's not the reason."

"Did she screw you over during divorce court?"

"That's not it, either."

"Is she not human?"

"Of course, he's human!"

Demoman raised his eyebrow. "Did you just say 'he'?"

Soldier slammed his book down on his desk. "I knew this would happen sooner or later."

"Are you talking about me not knowing about your loved one?"

"You know what I mean."

"Calm down, Troy. I didn't mean to turn this into an interrogation. I just want to know a little more about your past."

"Why would you want to know? Wouldn't you rather tell the rest of the RED Team about something they don't know about me?"

"I wouldn't want to do that. You're my good friend."

"Don't try to hide it, DeGroot. Be honest with me. I always take it like a man, and you should, too."

Demoman grew rather aggravated. "Troy, I am not going to insult you for who you really are. Demolition men like me are better than that."

"And you're not just saying that to gain my trust."

"This is the truth. I shouldn't be intolerant of your true self."

"You know, I thought you'd lose your mind because of who I am."

"Well, you and I have something in common."

"And what's that?"

"The two of us have been tormented for who we are in the past. You see, even if I was born and raised in Scotland, I still had my fair share of bullies. Ever since I was a child, people have been calling me names worse than 'Black Cyclops'. They made fun of me because of my skin color. It was because I was different. So don't think that this is going to be a hard time for you. We both experienced a bit of discrimination in the past."

"So what you're saying is, I'm not gonna lose your support."

"You definitely won't. I just want to know who this man was."

Soldier gave a deep long sigh before he said, "His name was Florencio. I met him back in Pittsburgh. He moved back to Portugal four years later because of family matters."

"Is it true that a group of men beat him to death?"

Soldier slowly nodded. "That part is true, unfortunately."

"How old was he when you first met him?"

"He was twenty-one years old. I was thirty-four at the time."

"That seems like a stretch, isn't it? Dating someone who is younger than you?"

"Let's not get carried away, DeGroot."

Demoman raised his hands. "You're right. You know, I guess I can see why you refuse to tell the rest of the RED Team about Florencio."

"If they find out about the real me, they would most likely think of me in a different way. And I don't mean that in a good way."

"You can at least be honest and be yourself. I'm sure most of them will understand."

Soldier shook his head. "You know how bigoted they can be. And the worst part is, some of them take it from _me_."

"Well, you can't just keep this as a secret forever. You might feel even worse in the future."

"I don't know. I still need time to think about it."

"Then, think about this. You're way past your youth. You're now in your forties. It's time to man up and ignore the assholes who try to bring you down. Or better yet, use your Equalizer and watch them explode."

Soldier chuckled. "At least _you're_ not giving up on me."

* * *

The late afternoon had settled in Coldfront. More and more clouds began to gather in the sky, almost hinting at the descending sun's abrupt desertion for the rest of the day.

Assassin found her brother at the Decrepit Cabin. She could see him wearing his red-colored jumpsuit, all the while observing the long-lasting remains of the wooden cabin. As soon as she stood beside one of the wrecked walls, Rocketeer fixed his gaze on one of the wooden beams that once supported a portion of the cabin. He slowly slid his fingers across it, as if he tried to feel the foundation's charisma.

Assassin tried to say something. "...Jason?"

Rocketeer still concentrated on the beam as he murmured, "Do you remember when we used to build our own sets back in Hollywood?"

Assassin slowly nodded as she replied, "I sure do."

"It seemed so easy constructing it all, and then deconstructing it once filming has finished. We were always careful. And when there was something wrong, we learned how to fix it pretty quickly. You and I now know how to fix a lot of things in the studio."

Rocketeer closed his eyes. "But I wish I could fix what we did outside of the studio."

Assassin took one step closer. "What do you want to fix, Jason?"

Rocketeer opened his eyes again. He turned his head to finally gaze at his sister and said, "I think you know what I mean. It happened just one year ago."

Assassin sighed. "You shouldn't blame yourself because of it. Besides, it's not like it's one of our biggest mistakes."

"You're acting like this is some kind of a blessing. Well, it's not. We shouldn't have dishonored our parents this way."

"Why would it matter what they think about what we've done? We're not teenagers anymore. We've grown up. We can make our own decisions. We can finally express our true selves."

Rocketeer stood right in front of her. "If you think I expressed my true self to you, then you're going to feel disappointed."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Yvonne, listen to me. It was just _one night_. That's all."

"I had been waiting forever to be with you that night."

Rocketeer turned away and stared at the jagged snow-filled mountaintops in the far distance.

"The Scout is perfect for you. Despite his garish attitude, he seems to be the kind of guy who would support you and protect you all the time. I tried to shield myself away from you, but I failed to be the ideal brother. You're better off with the Scout."

Assassin laid a hand on his shoulder. "You know that I've had mixed feelings about him since the beginning."

"You should stop thinking about me, Yvonne, because we're through. From now on, we should treat each other as legitimate siblings."

"But we won't forget about that one night, and you know it."

"I wish _I_ did."

Rocketeer walked away and headed back to the RED Base. Assassin stood alone in the middle of the Decrepit Cabin. All she could think about was the pure ecstasy that she felt when she shared a bed with Rocketeer. But then, she thought about the Scout, and how he had grown to become compassionate towards her. Rocketeer didn't want to displease their parents any longer, and so she decided to concentrate on her admiration for the Scout...at least for now.

* * *

It took at least ten minutes for Nathaniel Ingram to finish writing on his notepad as soon as he heard about everything that happened in Coldfront today. He wrote about everything, including the relationship between Rocketeer and Assassin. As he sat silently in his office, Ingram thought of the many ways he could bring the RED mercenaries into his own corporation. He already had a few ideas for Outlaw, Femme Fatale, and the Heavy Weapons Guy. He still needed to know more about Demoman, Medic, Sniper, and especially the Pyro. But for now, he concentrated on a planned proposition for Rocketeer. Seeing as how a past relationship between him and his sister is considered illegal all across the United States, both Rocketeer and Assassin would be deemed two of the worthiest candidates for blackmail. It would take some time to finish observations, but the process didn't seem to bother Ingram at all. The only thing he focused on was how he would fulfill his domination of TF Industries.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	48. SS - Pauling's Punishment, Part One

SHORT STORY

Pauling's Punishment (Part One)

* * *

March, 1969

It didn't take long for Fernando to venture into California's Central Valley. As one of the largest valleys in the world, particularly rich in agriculture, it has become his primary destination for bittersweet revenge. He drove across Route 99 and was now on his way to the city of Bakersfield. His nineteen-year-old son sat in the passenger's seat, his mouth retaining nothing but absolute silence. Several of Fernando's lifelong friends drove behind him. They followed him all the way from Guatemala, his home country, to the United States of America so he could expand his personal grudge a little longer. Even if Fernando concentrated on the road in front of him, he could see the clear blue sky providing itself with a darker hue than before. The sun was about to reposition itself further into the west. But the approaching evening didn't matter to Fernando. He just wanted to visit Bakersfield and get things done. He, his son, and his companions had only one thing in mind: search for Miss Pauling and make her feel the same anguish that his late wife had felt in the past.

* * *

The industrial realm of Pipeline was located just a few miles west of Bakersfield, right in the middle of nowhere. Warehouses, refineries, and the weekly Tule fog that surrounded Mann Co.'s architecture appeared to be a perfect camouflage against the naked eye. Both the RED and BLU Teams had taken a break from the daily Payload Races that occurred in Pipeline. Members of the RED team felt a bit ecstatic than usual. Just as he exited the barracks, Weatherman walked past Outlaw and Medic, both of whom carried stapled pieces of paper in their hands. Weatherman quickly turned around and asked them about it.

Medic smiled and said, "We're going to the terminal because we're auditioning for Demoman's first commercial. He finished the script for the High Five TL 2000 Phonograph last week."

Weatherman felt a bit more curious. "He's actually gonna go through with this? Does he have the necessary equipment that's needed for filmmaking?"

"Jason and Yvonne will assist him. They have the camera, and they have the lights. This could be something special for all of us. And who knows? Perhaps this commercial shall be quite a success for American television."

"I'm still skeptical about that. Remember last year, when Jason and Yvonne tried to find an actor for that Silver Dollar Cola commercial? It was a complete disaster. They couldn't even finish it."

Outlaw laughed. "But we truly believe that it is different this time."

"How so?"

"We're going to try to be a more civilized group of people. This is DeGroot's opportunity at tremendous Hollywood fame, and we should respect his new environment."

Weatherman gave a half smile. "He planted his Sticky Bombs all around the terminal, hasn't he?"

Outlaw grunted. "We can only hope that he doesn't have an itchy trigger finger at this time."

"Well, good luck."

Weatherman watched as Outlaw and Medic headed for the terminal before heading for the Pipeline cafeteria. Once inside the dining room, he could see Spy and Bodyguard conversing with each other while eating what looked like slices of sweet potato pie. Weatherman ordered a cup of cinnamon apple tea from the front counter. Then, he took a seat next to the window. Outside, he could see a few RED mercenaries walking toward the terminal with copies of Demoman's original script in their hands. He gave a little chuckle. He couldn't believe they would be so determined to star in a low-budget commercial for the High Five TL 2000 Phonograph. But then again, he himself would feel enthusiastic if he had the chance to gain the Hollywood mindset in such a short time.

Weatherman stayed in the cafeteria for a few more minutes. He looked out the window again. He was about to take another sip of his tea, until he spotted Miss Pauling walking away from the terminal and heading for the Heart of the Factory. He couldn't keep his eyes off her even as she disappeared from view.

"It looks like Miss Pauling as a secret admirer."

Weatherman looked away from the window and found Spy and Bodyguard standing right in front of the booth in which he sat in. Both of them had devious grins on their faces.

"I don't think it's any of your business."

Spy replied, "You are correct, my dear native friend. But that doesn't stop us from giving you some helpful tips on getting what you want."

"And what kind of tips should I take?"

Spy took a seat in the booth beside Weatherman and said, "Here's the first. It wouldn't be wise to choose a woman like Miss Pauling. This company does not allow employees to grow a deeper attachment towards each other."

"But what about Scout and Assassin? Nobody's having a problem with them."

"That is because they are both _mercenaries_. Having the Administrator's assistant as your new girlfriend might cause a few problems. You do not want to find yourself waking up in the middle of New York City with nothing but your Sledgehammer and a bottle of aspirin."

"I'm not interested in having a girlfriend...yet. I just want to get to know her a little more."

Spy straightened his tie. "Then, all you have to do is be subtle. Don't act like a deluded egomaniac, especially in the first few minutes of conversation."

Bodyguard laughed as he took a seat in the same booth. "That is not how I found my new girlfriend. All I did was say that I worked for the emperor of Saudi Arabia, and we became new friends."

Weatherman felt amused. "Well, that's because you worked for royalty. I've got nothing."

"If you're desperate, you will have to be a little dishonest."

Spy shook his head. "That is a completely different philosophy, Nazir. It does not work here in Mann Co., unfortunately."

"It worked for _me _once."

"That is because you could get away with it."

Weatherman finished his cup of tea. "I'm gonna have to think about it. Have fun discussing relationships."

Spy and Bodyguard laughed as soon as Weatherman left the cafeteria.

Bodyguard asked, "Do you think he is out of his mind?"

"I do believe he is as desperate as the Scout. Let's not forget when he took his shirt off to impress Miss Pauling."

"Ah, yes. You told me about it some time ago. What happened after that?"

"Let's just say that involves a sandwich and the Southern Hospitality."

"You can stop right there."

Spy looked out the window, and suddenly found something very strange. It was only for a split second, but he thought he saw a man hiding in the darkness.

Bodyguard asked, "What is wrong?"

"I thought I just saw a BLU Spy."

"But the battles are over. Why would he try to intrude at a time like this?"

"That is a good question."

* * *

Miss Pauling stood on a balcony that overlooked the Heart of the Factory. The two Payload tracks were empty and devoid of action. The crescent moon hovered over the industrial terrain. The night seemed almost tranquil with its soft breeze and chirping crickets. This would be the perfect time to do some nightly surveillance, one of her most cherished tasks. But sudden footsteps from behind forced her to turn around. She saw the Weatherman walking right past the balcony.

He set his eyes on her once he stopped taking further steps abruptly. "I'm sorry. Did I scare you?"

Miss Pauling replied, "No, I thought the Demoman started on his daily charge for his precious little scrumpy."

Weatherman chuckled. "That's a pretty good one, Miss Pauling."

"Thanks."

He cleared his throat. "Am I bothering you right now? Because if I am, then I'm sorry."

"No, not at all. I'm just standing around for now. I should do my nightly surveillance, but I'm preparing myself for it a little more."

"Well, I respect your privacy. In the meantime, I should go."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm almost finished with constructing my newest weapon for my arsenal."

"I rarely see you use a weapon from Mann Co., which is interesting. Why is it that you like to use your own weapons?"

"To be quite honest, I prefer to build things that I'm going to use for a lifetime. That's why I've built my own car, my own bed, and even my own garage."

"You must be really good with your tools."

"I'm always extra careful whenever I try to build something for myself."

"Here's another question: why is it that your arsenal features nothing but bad weather?"

"Well, it's kind of complicated."

Miss Pauling leaned against the railing. "I'm willing to hear about it, even if it is complex."

Weatherman gave a grin. "I guess I got a minute."

For the next several minutes, Weatherman and Miss Pauling had the chance to know each other a little more. The Native-American man told her about his family, and how they constantly struggled through economic turmoil. He also described his bitter relationship with his late brother, and how he now felt like seeing him again for one last time. Meanwhile, the twenty-six-year-old assistant told of how she was born and raised in the city of Philadelphia. She mentioned her ex-husband, Steve Haskins (or, as some might know him as, Rolf Marcussen), at least twice. She didn't want to give his real name for good reason.

The two of them talked for such a long time, and yet they didn't even know about the Guatemalan intruder who stood right below the balcony. He leaned against the wall and listened to almost everything that Weatherman and Miss Pauling had discussed. When Miss Pauling said the counterfeit name of her ex-husband, Fernando narrowed his eyes. He knew much about Rolf Marcussen. He was the reason why he wanted to search for Pipeline in the Central Valley. Fernando wanted to fulfill his revenge against the man who had taken his wife away.

But Fernando couldn't do his task right away. He could see how powerful these mercenaries could be. So he decided to wait until after midnight. Then, there would be a much better chance at kidnapping Miss Pauling without the Administrator or her mercenaries to even observe the incident.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	49. SS - Pauling's Punishment, Part Two

SHORT STORY

Pauling's Punishment (Part Two)

* * *

Fernando had to hide in Mann Co.'s industrial realm, as he didn't want to risk being seen by any of the mercenaries. He hid in a corner, where it was almost pitch black. He waited for a few more hours before several minutes after midnight had already passed. At this time, Fernando expected his son and his companions to do their job right. He brandished his pump-action shotgun and made sure that it was fully loaded. He listened closely for any faint movement in the distance. Absolute silence had dominated Pipeline. Even the crickets stopped chirping. He could see that, up above, the crescent moon had been partially obscured by a thin blanket of clouds. He took a deep breath. He was now ready to take the first stage of vengeance.

He ventured through the Heart of the Factory. As he snuck past the basin below the railroad tracks, he gazed at every direction for any potential enemies. So far, he couldn't see any mercenaries from both RED and BLU. In fact, however, he didn't even see the RED Spy sneaking from behind because of his invisibility. Fernando made his way to the entrance of the RED barracks, until he immediately stopped moving his legs. He had an uneasy feeling that someone was watching him. He turned around just as Spy stopped walking. And now, they stood right facing each other, only that Fernando didn't know anything about Spy's invisibility. With his Butterfly Knife in his hand, Spy readied himself for swift action. Fernando's suspicion grew tremendously as he thought he could hear someone breathing. He slowly turned around, and that was when Spy turned off his invisibility and raised his Knife. Fernando made a quick decision. He turned back, dropped his shotgun, and grabbed Spy by the arm. The two began to fight each other with fists and knees. Fernando punched Spy in the torso, causing the Frenchman to take a few steps back. Fernando picked up his shotgun and pointed the barrel at his enemy's face. Spy brandished his revolver, but he couldn't pull the trigger in time. Fernando had fired a single round that led to the complete disfiguration of Spy's face. The Frenchman collapsed on the floor, lifeless for now. Fernando ran away, knowing that he had just set off an alarming presence in Pipeline.

A few seconds later, Spy respawned and exited the barracks. He readjusted his tie as he raced off to the bedrooms, warning the other mercenaries of an intruder.

The sirens howled all across Mann Co's terrain. The RED team gathered their weapons in their locker room.

As he loaded his Automatic Shotgun, Bodyguard blurted, "I do not understand! Why would an intruder try to attack us when the battles ended six hours ago?"

Sniper collected bullets for his Rifle. "Spy said that it's not from the BLU Team. It must be someone from outside of Mann Co., but he doesn't know who. Regardless, we have to find him. He could be a secret agent or something of that sort."

Engineer put on his helmet. "And it's just one person. It's not like he's the equivalent of Saxton Hale."

Sniper added, "We can only hope."

Demoman, Engineer, and Sniper defended the base. The rest of the RED mercenaries separated as they searched every stair, every corridor, and every crevice in Pipeline. This would give them a bigger chance at seizing the trespasser. In just a few minutes, several teammates from different locations had found an intruder of their own. They presumed them to be who they were looking for. But they couldn't be more wrong. The men that they had chased were Fernando's men. They became distractions for the RED team while he headed for the maintenance room. There, Miss Pauling loaded her revolver and waited for news regarding the capture of whoever had roamed around Mann territory without the Administrator's approval. Fernando snuck across the hallway that connected to the Maintenance Room. The front windowless door was closed.

He thought of turning the doorknob, but he imagined it becoming a trap set by Miss Pauling. He waited until he could hear footsteps in the other side of the door.

Suddenly, he could hear a recognizable voice.

"Don't even think about it! I'm armed, and I'm not afraid to strike you down!"

Miss Pauling pointed the barrel of her revolver to the doorknob. She waited until it would turn. Then, she would at least try to get a few shots at the hand that belonged to the intruder.

Fernando couldn't risk it. He walked backwards and headed outside, right on the battlements of the terminal.

Miss Pauling waited for a few more minutes before she could no longer believe that someone stood right at the door. With the revolver still in her hand, she turned the doorknob and looked out the other side. The hallway was empty.

Fernando waited in the darkness. He knew that if Miss Pauling revealed herself outside, his son would know what to do. It didn't take long for the woman to exit the Maintenance Room. She appeared careful and precise. Fernando remembered her very well.

He placed his shotgun on the floor and took a few steps forward, from out of the shadows. He revealed himself with his hands raised at shoulder level as Miss Pauling turned around and raised her revolver.

The Guatemalan man narrowed his eyes as he murmured, "Do you remember me, Miss Pauling?"

At that exact moment, something pierced through the woman's skin. She suddenly began to feel lethargic. She discovered what looked like a tranquilizer dart that was struck on her shoulder. Fernando looked up to see his eighteen-year-old son standing on the rooftop with a rifle in his hands. Miss Pauling tried to use her revolver against Fernando, but she collapsed on the floor as she lost consciousness.

Fernando picked up his shotgun and placed it in the holster behind his back. He picked up Miss Pauling in his arms and walked away from the battlements with his son following from behind a few seconds later.

Meanwhile, Fernando's companions had barely escaped from the RED mercenaries. They departed from Mann's domain just in time to join their leader. Right at the front entrance to Pipeline, a total of four cars arrived and parked in a brief moment, giving the intruders enough time to jump inside. Fernando brought the unconscious Miss Pauling inside one of the automobiles. They all drove off into the night, but not before Sniper and Femme Fatale caught a glimpse of the disappearing vehicles. The two of them stood right at the front entrance.

Femme Fatale asked, "What are we waiting for? Let's go after them."

Sniper walked back to Pipeline with the Sri Lankan woman following from behind. "We can't risk it, Victoria. We don't have a respawn system outside of Mann territory."

"But they have Miss Pauling! We have to go after them."

"It's too late. There won't be enough time to follow them once we take the Ford Broncos. We have to wait for the Administrator's approval."

"I don't think we'll have time to even hear her speak."

* * *

The RED mercenaries gathered in the lower basin of the Heart of the Factory. They waited for the Administrator's arrival, but with bitter impatience. Weatherman walked around in circles as he said, "We're just wasting our time. Why can't we just chase these intruders?"

Sniper replied, "We told you already. We can't leave this place because of the lack of a respawn system. And we have to wait until the Administrator gives us direct orders."

"Who would take Miss Pauling away from us?"

Spy examined his revolver. "The man looked Hispanic. He could be from the lower Americas, like Miguel."

Weatherman added, "He must have a personal grudge against the woman or something."

"It is a very good possibility, but we can't be too sure of it."

The Native American man grunted. "What's taking her so long?"

Sniper cleared his throat. "She's already here, mate."

The Administrator had arrived, but she wasn't alone. A middle-aged Caucasian man with a moustache and a casual business suit stood right alongside her.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I like you to meet Rolf Marcussen."

Marcussen waved his hand, but the mercenaries gave a silent response.

Femme Fatale asked, "Do you know what just happened a few minutes ago?"

Administrator nodded. "Yes, I am aware of it. That is why this man is here."

Scout felt a little confused. "Who is he, anyway?"

Marcussen answered that question with a mild accent and in a casual manner. "I happen to be Miss Pauling's ex-husband."

The RED mercenaries gave brief whispers.

Marcussen continued, "I know the man who has just taken her away."

Rocketeer remarked, "I hope he's not some kind of cannibal."

"Actually, I know the man personally. You see, his name is Fernando and he is from Guatemala."

Engineer scratched his head. "What the hell is he doing all the way here?"

Marcussen replied, "He's madman. He thinks he can get what he wants by playing a little game with me."

Weatherman grew even more curious than before. "What have you done to make him angry?"

"There is not time for me to explain. We must work together to bring back the Administrator's assistant."

"I think we just wasted our opportunity. We don't even know where Fernando and his men drove off to."

"But _I_ do. I know Fernando well enough to see that he won't be leaving California anytime soon. He'll be staying here in the Central Valley. It's likely that he'll be heading north to Fresno."

"How do you know this?"

"As I said before, I know him very well. Now, please, we must act now. A rescue mission is imminent."

Demoman blurted, "But we might die out there. There is no respawn anywhere but here."

Rolf Marcussen gave the Administrator an inquisitive glance. Administrator replied, "It's quite complicated, really."

Marcussen muttered, "I see. Anyway, who would like to volunteer?"

Weatherman raised his hand. "I'll go."

Engineer added, "Count me in as well."

In just a few seconds, Weatherman, Engineer, Sniper, Outlaw, Femme Fatale, Spy, and Bodyguard had volunteered for their brand new objective of the night.

Marcussen gave a grin. "Good, this is enough to defeat Fernando and his men. That is, if you do your job properly."

Bodyguard brandished his Automatic Shotgun. "Do not worry, Mr. Marcussen. We will not let you down."

Outlaw still felt skeptical. "But what about respawn?"

Administrator replied, "You will not have to worry about permanent death. All you have to do is defend yourself against gunfire."

Weatherman carried his Lightning Launcher as he said, "Okay, Mr. Marcussen, where exactly do you think Fernando is going?"

Marcussen rubbed his hands together. "I have a feeling that the man knows much about farming."

TO BE CONTINUED...


	50. SS - Pauling's Punishment, Part Three

**Note****: I know that Pipeline is a part of Badlands territory. I felt like placing it in California's Central Valley because it might fit the plot a little more. Plus, as a California native myself, I couldn't resist.**

**Finally, this chapter contains some strong adult content (Rated M). So readers are warned.**

* * *

SHORT STORY

Pauling's Punishment (Part Three)

* * *

Fernando and his men did travel further up north in the Central Valley. They had known their way around the lower half of the flat agricultural region because they had worked in the farms at least twice in their lifetime. Several years ago, they left their home country and tried to find work in California. The men got what they wished, except for Fernando. Even if he remembered everything there was to know about the Central Valley, he regretted his decision to stay here just a little longer.

Once they drove past the city of Kingsburg, which was situated between Bakersfield and Fresno, Fernando and his men exited Route 99 and took a thin one-lane road that led them deeper into the valley. They drove past fields filled with fruit trees and short grass. Fernando, who led his four friends to their previous workplace, parked on the side of the road, right next to an immense orchard of fruit trees. His friends park right next to him.

Fernando examined the orchard. He had collected oranges, peaches, and plums in this area a long time ago. Almost everything looked the same. It seemed that nothing had changed for many years. He told two of his friends to grab Miss Pauling, who had now become fully awake. The two men pulled her out of Fernando's automobile and grabbed her by the arms.

She yelled, "I wouldn't do this if I were you! They'll find you, and they will kill you. And I'm not being blasé about it. They'll tear you apart piece by piece! I've seen how both teams fight."

The men turned on their flashlights and pointed them at the orchard. Miss Pauling set her eyes on Fernando, who wore blue jeans, a black t-shirt, a brown vest, and white gloves. With his cold stare, he commanded his friends to bring her into the center of the orchard. They would basically be unseen because of the endless array of small trees, though their parked vehicles would give anyone a little suspicion. But Fernando didn't care about that. He wanted to get this over with, give Rolf Marcussen a little taste of long-awaited vengeance.

As soon as they stopped at the center of the orchard, Fernando tied both of Miss Pauling's hands to the thin trunk of a tall fruit tree, despite her constant struggles. She stood facing the trunk of the tree. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Fernando, his son, and his four companions staring right at her.

She shouted, "You won't get away with this! I know plenty of people who won't hesitate in hunting you down."

Fernando and his men kept calm. They circled around her. Fernando pointed his flashlight straight at Miss Pauling's face. She squint her eyes for a few seconds.

Fernando stated, "We are not afraid, Miss Pauling."

"Well, you should be. You don't know the kind of people that I work with."

"But I know the kind of people your husband worked with."

Miss Pauling grew impatient. "He's my _ex-husband_ now. If you want to take out your frustrations, do it on him, not _me_."

"That is exactly what I am doing. Tell me something. Did you ever know about Marcussen's occupation?"

"Of course, I knew. Did you really think he would leave me out of his workplace?"

Fernando narrowed his eyes. "Judging by your tone of voice, I can see that you don't care about the people that suffered because of Marcussen's unjust activities."

"I stopped caring when the divorce was finalized."

"Why did you even marry him? He must be at least twenty years older than you."

"It didn't matter at the time."

Fernando gave a deep sigh. "You don't seem to know what my family has gone through."

"I can only imagine."

"Your ex-husband took my wife away from me and my son."

He pointed at the thin young man who wore black pants and a white t-shirt. Fernando continued, "Do you know who she was, Miss Pauling? Her name was Esmeralda. She was one of the greatest women to have ever lived. And all of a sudden, Mr. Marcussen stole her away from me and sent her to Europe. She became a slave, Miss Pauling. Marcussen and members of his organization detained women and children and had turned them all into slaves. I should know. My wife became one of them."

"I think you should spend your time finding where she is now instead wasting your time trying to ruin my own life."

Fernando continued to frown. "I already found her. I had to travel all the way to West Germany. But I couldn't get to her in time. I found her alone in an abandoned warehouse, bound and gagged. I don't know how long she was dead before I got to her."

"I'm really sorry about that."

"I don't think you are, and I don't think Marcussen will care about it, either."

Fernando handed the flashlight to his eighteen-year-old son, Renaldo. The two of them said a few words in their native tongue.

Miss Pauling began to feel a little more anxious. "What are you going to do?"

Fernando pulled out his revolver from the holster and replied, "I don't think you know how much my son and I suffered with the loss of Esmeralda. I will show you what it means to lose the sanctity of human innocence."

"Please don't tell me you're going to chop me up into little pieces."

"I can assure you that I will not kill you. But I will not keep you away from harm."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Pauling, but your ex-husband forced me to do this."

Fernando said something to his four companions. They nodded and left the area, each in different directions.

Fernando added, "My friends will look out for certain trespassers, while I let my son occupy himself with his gift."

Miss Pauling took deeper breaths. "I'm assuming that the gift you're talking about is the gun you're holding."

Fernando shook his head. "No, my dear Miss Pauling, the gift is _you_."

* * *

Weatherman tried to calm himself down as he, Engineer, Sniper, Outlaw, Femme Fatale, Spy, and Bodyguard took the same one-lane road that Fernando and his men had used. With the use of the Ford Broncos, they took their time in reaching their destination. With the crescent moon revealing itself in the clear night sky, the entire valley didn't appear very clear because of the partial darkness.

In one of the automobiles, Weatherman sat in the passenger seat, while Engineer took the wheel.

Weatherman concentrated on the road in front of him as he asked, "How much time do we have before we get there?"

Engineer kept his eyes on the road as well. "I don't know. Maybe seven, or eight minutes."

"I hope Marcussen gave us the right directions."

"I think we can trust someone who wears a completely clean suit."

In the back seat, Bodyguard wiped his Scimitar with his cloth. He said, "Did you see how old he was? He must be as old as me."

Weatherman asked, "Why would Miss Pauling marry a guy like him?"

"I would say she was in it for the money."

"He said he was from Norway, right?"

"That's what it sounded like."

Weatherman tightened his grip on his Lightning Launcher. "I hope we get there in time to save her. I can't wait to kick some ass!"

Engineer gave a little grin. "I'm with ya on this one, buddy."

It took them only a handful of seconds to find the Guatemalans' parked vehicles on the side of the road.

Engineer pressed the brake even deeper as he uttered, "It's time for a little more action."

* * *

Fernando still had his revolver in his hand, but he pointed the barrel at the dirt floor. He pointed his flashlight at the woman who stood several feet away. He watched as his son Renaldo slowly caressed Pauling's unclothed arms with his hands. Pauling, who still had her hands tied to the tree trunk, tried to ignore the touch of an eighteen-year-old Guatemalan stranger. Renaldo stood right behind her as he closed his eyes and touched her arms. Fernando could see that the two of them shared the same height. Renaldo brought his hands up to Pauling's shoulders.

She whispered, "I think you've made your point, Fernando."

Fernando just stood still as he said, "My son is not finished. You just wait a little longer before we put you out of your misery."

Pauling opened her eyes again. She saw Renaldo in the corner of her eye, and he looked rather hesitant as he laid his fingers in her black hair. It looked as though he tried to smile but fought against it at the last second.

"Are you sure this is what your son wants?"

Fernando narrowed his eyes. "You do not want to ruin his first erotic escapade."

Renaldo pressed his lips on Pauling's neck, which brought an even deeper discomfort for Pauling.

She aggressively whispered, "You shouldn't be doing this."

Fernando replied, "Now you know what my wife had gone through."

Miss Pauling tried to shake off Renaldo's hands, but the young man now held her in his arms. He began to touch her chest. She gave a look of incredible disgust. She wanted to escape this place. She wanted to escape the lustful grasp of an eighteen-year-old man.

And it sounded like she got her wish.

A sudden burst of gunfire in the distance caused Renaldo to stop kissing Pauling's neck. Fernando turned around to hear where the speeding bullets came from.

He shouted to his son, "Stay here! And make sure no one takes her away from here."

Fernando fled to aid his friends. Renaldo stayed still as he picked up his rifle that lay on the ground. He kept a close eye on Miss Pauling as the two of them could see a burst of lightning from above. The piercing thunder followed immediately right after. Miss Pauling could only assume that Weatherman had participated in a rescue mission authorized by the Administrator.

Renaldo took a deep breath as he said with a heavy accent, "I am sorry, but I do want to make my father proud."

Miss Pauling closed her eyes. "I guess I can understand what you're doing. But you can't just force someone to do what you want."

"I do believe my mother felt the same way."

"Renaldo, you have to understand. I no longer love Rolf Marcussen. I left him a few years ago. I know I should have left him sooner...but I felt desperate. My entire family felt determined to be a part of his everlasting fortune."

"Maybe you are lucky. You live in a big mansion while my parents live in the slums. Mr. Marcussen took my mother away from us!"

"I had no authority in his organization."

Fernando suddenly reappeared as soon as the gunfire had stopped. He said something to his son in Spanish, and Renaldo shook his head in silence.

Fernando turned to Miss Pauling and was about to say something, but an arrow to the neck only made him give out a loud groan. As blood spurt out of his permanent wound, Fernando collapsed on the floor. Renaldo yelled an obscure Spanish phrase as he dropped his rifle and ran toward his father.

Sniper emerged from the endless array of fruit trees with his SMG in his hand.

"Hold it right there, you wanker!"

Renaldo quickly picked up his rifle and aimed it at the Australian. Miss Pauling could see absolute rage in the young man's eyes.

Renaldo yelled, "You killed my father!"

Sniper replied, "I had to, mate. It's my job."

"You work for Marcussen! You are an imbecile."

"Now is not the right time to call me names."

Miss Pauling, still attached to the tree, shouted, "Don't kill him, Mundy!"

Sniper looked a little puzzled. "Isn't this man dangerous?"

"He's dangerous only because he has a weapon."

Renaldo kept the barrel of his rifle pointed at Sniper. "My father is dead! My mother is dead! I have nothing left!"

Sniper lowered his SMG. "Take it easy."

Miss Pauling could see the Spy revealing himself in thin air. He had turned off his invisibility, and now he stood behind Renaldo with his Butterfly Knife in his hand.

Miss Pauling yelled, "No, don't!"

But it was too late.

Spy stabbed Renaldo in the back. Renaldo's eyes widened as he fell to his knees and dropped his rifle on the dirt. The look of bitter sadness on his face made Pauling turn away. Renaldo lay on the floor, lifeless, his eyes wide open and his mouth left agape.

Spy used his Butterfly Knife to cut the rope that bound Miss Pauling to the fruit tree. He said, "We must hurry. The police might interfere and we could be seen."

Spy and Sniper left Miss Pauling away from the orchard. The woman turned around to see both Fernando and Renaldo lying on the floor, both deceased because of their quest for vengeance.

Pauling and the seven RED mercenaries fled the orchard with their Ford Broncos. They drove at top speed as they headed back to base.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	51. SS - Pauling's Punishment, Part Four

SHORT STORY

Pauling's Punishment (Part Four, Final)

* * *

It took them almost half an hour to return to Pipeline. They made certain to avoid law enforcement before entering Mann's terrain. The RED mercenaries left the Ford Broncos in the garage and, with a nearly shaken Miss Pauling by their side, reunited with Administrator in the control room. As she sat silently in her chair, Pauling and the mercenaries revealed themselves. Spy informed Administrator that every single one of the intruders had been accounted for and executed. Both Fernando and Renaldo were dead.

Administrator smiled as she said, "You have all done well. I shall raise your salary for the next few months."

Bodyguard raised a finger. "How about some more crates?"

"I will look into that later on. But for now, you all may be excused."

Weatherman, Engineer, Outlaw, Femme Fatale, Spy, Sniper, and Bodyguard left the control room. Weatherman gave Miss Pauling a brief sidelong glance before he joined the others as they headed back to the RED barracks.

Miss Pauling stood still as she stood several feet in front of Administrator. "Thank you for acknowledging the rescue mission."

Administrator replied, "I never think lowly of those who are in dire need."

Miss Pauling straightened her outfit. "I better get going now."

"Not so fast, Pauling. There is someone here who would like to see you."

Miss Pauling didn't like the sound of this. "And who would that be?"

"You've known me for quite some time now, darling."

She recognized that baritone voice right away. She turned around to see Rolf Marcussen standing in the corner with a grin on his face. He wore his usual clean business suit.

"My dear Pauling, how much I've missed you."

Miss Pauling almost looked away. She didn't want to spend the next few minutes with her middle-aged ex-husband after all the things that happened in the orchard.

Marcussen took a few steps forward as he stated, "I hope the intruders did nothing to contaminate your essence of being."

"Maybe they should have, seeing as how they suffered more than we did."

Marcussen appeared as if he feigned surprise. "Why, whatever do you mean?"

"You do remember Fernando, don't you?"

"Of course, I wouldn't forget such a crazy man."

"He wasn't crazy. He was heartbroken because of what you did to his wife."

"I don't even remember what I did."

Miss Pauling grew impatient. "Don't joke around like that, Rolf."

"My dear Pauling, I can't help it if I ruin one man's life."

"I think you ruined more than just one life."

"And that's what my organization specializes. You can't deny its undying power. There are plenty of people in Europe who would love to possess a woman such as Fernando's own wife."

Miss Pauling finally looked away. "I wish you could just leave."

Administrator, who still sat in her chair, replied, "I'm afraid that cannot happen."

"And why not?"

Marcussen interrupted, "You wouldn't want to overlook the man who saved your life, would you?"

"I can do what I want."

"Listen, Fernando and his son had you kidnapped. They shouldn't mess around with someone who used to live with one of the most powerful men in the United States."

"Maybe if you didn't take Esmeralda away from them, this wouldn't have happened."

"Don't blame me. Blame the company that I have founded."

Miss Pauling folded her arms across her chest. "Listen, Rolf, I don't love you anymore. Don't try to win me back."

"Who said that I'm trying to take you back? I'm only here because I would like to compliment your employees for such fine assassination skills."

"Are you, now?"

"You can trust me on this one."

Miss Pauling didn't flinch. "I can only do it _just this once_."

With a slow nod, Marcussen turned to Administrator and said, "Thank you for your time. Oh, and Miss Pauling, if you feel the need to reconnect with me, just give me a call. You know the number. You always have."

Rolf Marcussen left the control room without another word.

Miss Pauling gave a deep sigh. "Why did you bring him here?"

Administrator stood up from her chair. "He knew the exact location of our mercenaries' new objective. The two of us cooperated to get you out of that orchard."

"Maybe it would have been better to let Renaldo have me."

"And who is this Renaldo fellow?"

"He is Fernando's son. He had...a certain craving for me."

Administrator didn't look amused. "You shouldn't talk like that, Miss Pauling. We didn't want you to disappear forever. You are important to Mann Co., and you should always remember that. This company would be incomplete without you. And please do not deny your importance ever again!"

"I already understand what you're saying."

"I hope so, because I would execute you myself if you ever had second thoughts about all of this."

"Oh, don't worry. I don't have any."

* * *

Miss Pauling left the control room and headed back to her room. But once she strolled across the Heart of the Factory, she took slower steps. The crescent moon still became the most recognizable entity in the sky, with the scattered stars giving off only minimal luminosity. Everything seemed tranquil. The water below the railroad tracks didn't even reveal any ripples. Any indication of a cool and gentle breeze became absent. Miss Pauling took her time to reflect on the causes and effects of Rolf Marcussen's infamous occupation. More and more people died today, and Miss Pauling started to wonder if she really should have left Marcussen sooner.

Just as she headed for the RED barracks, she spotted someone walking down the RED tracks. Weatherman finished wrapping his red-colored shirt around his waist. It was interesting. She never exactly saw him wearing that shirt. A white undershirt was all he wore on the upper part of his body. Perhaps it had something to do with his personality. But it didn't matter. As soon as he reached the bottom of the basin, she asked what he was doing in the final capture area.

Weatherman replied, "I took my time staring at the sky. I thought I'd calm myself before I go to sleep."

"Do you do this often?"

"It's just something that I'm starting out."

Miss Pauling cleared her throat. "Anyway, thank you for volunteering for the rescue mission."

Weatherman nodded. "I never back away from an employee in need."

They both gazed at each other during a few seconds of absolute silence. Miss Pauling was the first to look away. "I should go to bed."

"Don't you want to stay up for your nightly surveillance?"

"I should take a break from that, especially after what happened tonight."

"What did the Guatemalans want from you?"

Miss Pauling wanted to be honest to the mercenary who seemed to care a little more about her than about his arsenal. "They wanted revenge because of what my ex-husband did."

"And just what did Mr. Marcussen do?"

"He stole Fernando's wife away."

"Who's Fernando?"

"He was the leader of the intruders. I think you need to know the whole story."

She remained cautious as she explained everything. It started with her marriage to the Norwegian-American businessman five years ago. At the age of twenty-one, Miss Pauling officially became Mrs. Marcussen for the time being. She learned so much from the man. He taught her business skills and ethics. She used this knowledge once she joined Mann Co. and became the Administrator's assistant later on. She already knew what Rolf Marcussen did for a living: his company specialized in slavery. Women and children from South America and Southeast Asia had been taken from their own homes and sent to various parts of Europe, where they worked for some of the richest (and most corrupt) individuals in the entire continent. Children had been forced to clean houses, while most women had no other option but to please their masters with physical presentations. This didn't bother Miss Pauling at first, but then she grew uncomfortable at the fact that Marcussen's company ruined people's lives. She divorced him when she was twenty-four.

Weatherman kept his ears focused on her personal narrative. "I never thought Marcussen would do such hurtful things."

"Well, I should have left him sooner. Fernando and his son reminded me of the pain and suffering that Marcussen's slaves had gone through, and are _still_ going through. I can't believe I married that man."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. Didn't you say that you and your family needed money?"

"Yes, I did."

"You got what you wanted, didn't you? You became rich, and how you're using your skills and knowledge to power up Mann Co. and other things."

"But I didn't think I would realize the notorious significance of Marcussen's career."

Weatherman took one step closer. "I think it's time to forget about it. It's all in the past."

"I know it is, but I'm having a hard time trying to forget about the things that happened tonight."

"Here's how _I_ see it. You made mistakes, but you've learned from them. That's making you a better person. You've learned not to marry for money, and you've learned to stay away from damning organizations like Marcussen's. Now you're here. You haven't done the same things you did in the past, have you?"

"No, I have not."

"I think you've already dealt with your past."

Miss Pauling nodded. "I guess I did."

"And now it's time to concentrate on the future. I'm sorry about Fernando, but it's done. Now is the time to move on."

She gave a little smile. "I didn't think you would care about what's been happening to me."

Weatherman replied, "It's like what Sniper once said to me. It's all a family. We stick with each other no matter what."

* * *

Weatherman's little pep talk calmed her down a little. As she headed for the Maintenance Room, she heard a phone ring. It came from the hallway adjacent to the TV Room. She walked across it and reached for the phone attached to the wall. She picked up the handset and asked who was speaking on the other end.

"_I didn't think the Weatherman would help you with your loss, but I don't think I've learned enough yet_."

Miss Pauling closed her eyes. "Hello, Mr. Ingram."

"_It's been a very entertaining night, I must say. I've learned so much about Mr. Marcussen and the Guatemalans_."

"Did you hear everything from me and Weatherman?"

"_I sure did. It was very touching_."

Miss Pauling could hear a hint of deviousness in Ingram's voice. "What did you call me here for?"

"_I'm just giving you a friendly reminder. You see, tonight's rescue mission had a bit of a downside. Your RED mercenaries killed civilians. You do know what I mean, don't you? The Guatemalans didn't work for Mann Co., so they are deemed innocent people. This wouldn't sit so well with law enforcement_."

"No, it wouldn't."

"_But don't worry. I won't tell anyone about it...unless I'm being coerced about it. On the other hand, amnesty is still important, isn't it_?"

Miss Pauling sighed. "Yes, it is."

"_If you don't do what is required, then I might tell the authorities about the murder of Hispanic civilians. I might juice it up a little for dramatization_."

"You're starting to get on my nerves."

She could hear him chuckle over the phone. "_Don't lose control of your temper, Miss Pauling. My current proposition still stands. You do as I say, and I'll give you complete amnesty because of what Marcussen and his organization has done to you. You know this is the only way to receive salvation._"

"...Of course, it is."

"_I will contact you again_."

"When?"

"_I don't think you should worry about that_."

Nathaniel Ingram hung up. Miss Pauling wanted to strike the handset against the wall, but she fought against the urge.

* * *

MORE SS CHAPTERS COMING SOON...


	52. SS - The Temporary Assistant

SHORT STORY

The Temporary Assistant

* * *

March, 1969

The sun never revealed itself on a typical day in Sawmill. Thick layers of storm clouds always blocked daily luminosity, and the sun seemed to only appear occasionally during sunsets. This didn't become a big deal to the mercenaries since they first started confronting each other. All they cared about was either claiming the core of the arena or capturing the Intel. But none of this happened on a time like Friday morning. At this moment, Heavy Weapons Guy could do nothing but sit in the TV Room and watch one of his favorite American shows. _Lillian Thornburg's Culinary Delights _always aired at seven o'clock in the morning. It was part of a morning news program on Channel 15. Even if the screen still featured the usual black-and-white format, Heavy always enjoyed watching Lillian Thornburg cook some scrumptious-looking meals, ranging from simple breakfasts to more exotic cuisines. As of this moment, the small middle-aged woman began to demonstrate how to cook some authentic Greek spaghetti with lobster. Heavy kept his eyes glued to the enormous TV screen while taking a bite out of his Fishcake. The little snack in his hand paled in comparison to what Thornburg created in the news room, but it would have to do.

As he concentrated on the cooking techniques needed to perfect the Greek dish, Bodyguard revealed himself at the entrance with a newspaper in his hands. He sat down next to Heavy and said, "Give me the remote."

Heavy replied, "I am watching Thornburg cook delicious food."

"You can watch that some other time, my good friend. I need to watch the Channel 9 News for the lottery."

"What lottery are you talking about?"

Bodyguard gave a mischievous grin. "This is the one that is worth fifty thousand dollars. The newscaster will reveal your date of birth and your place of origin, and if you're origins are correct, then you are the lucky winner of fifty thousand U.S. dollars!"

Heavy quickly changed the channel with the remote. "Which channel?"

"Channel 9. It should be announced in a few minutes."

Heavy found Channel 9, but the news had already cut to commercial. "Do you really think you will win lottery?"

"I believe in good luck when it's handed to me. Who knows? Any one of us could win this year."

Heavy rubbed his palms together. "I can already imagine what I can do with that much money."

"I really hope you are not going to spend it all on useless Buffalo Steaks."

"No, I would buy spectacular new Minigun that can shoot rockets and acid rain."

Bodyguard gave a thumbs-up. "You are always thinking positive, my good friend."

When the commercial ended, Heavy and Bodyguard waited for the newscaster to begin the lottery.

* * *

"Straight Flush, ladies and gentlemen."

When Spy revealed his five cards to his friends at the poker table, his opponents let out a deep frustrated sigh. Engineer, Medic, and Femme Fatale had already lost half of their chips to the suave Frenchman.

Femme Fatale remarked, "I hope that you are not cheating."

Spy smiled. "Why would I do such a thing?"

The four mercenaries played against each other in the Game Room. They sat around the poker table for at least an hour. Breakfast would arrive a little later, but for now, they bet on their most recent paychecks. And it appeared that Spy just got a little luckier.

It was now Engineer's turn to reshuffle the cards. "Say, has anyone spotted Miss Pauling lately? She usually does her Friday inspections in the morning, and I haven't seen her since I woke up."

Medic replied, "She's not here. She has gone on vacation."

Engineer was not surprised. "I guess the incident back in Pipeline had a negative effect on her."

As the four players collected their next five cards, Femme Fatale asked, "Where did she run off to?"

Medic looked at his cards very closely as he said, "She has kept the location secret. Even the Administrator doesn't know where she has gone off to for the next two weeks."

Spy pulled out a cigarette from his cigarette case. "You do know what happens when the assistant is away."

Engineer sighed. "Well, it rarely happens, but it has to be done."

Femme Fatale asked for more cards as she discarded two from her hands. "What are you talking about?"

"If Miss Pauling is away, then the Administrator brings in a 'temporary' assistant. We've had a few here in Mann Co, including the one from New York City."

"Was the assistant a cruel one?"

"You betcha, Victoria. She kept criticizing every one of us because we had a craving for red meat. It felt like she enforced her tired old vegetarian philosophies down on us. And she _did_. She kinda reminded me of the vegan recruit long before you joined this team."

"I wonder why the Administrator would hire such a person."

"I think she works in many strange ways, wouldn't ya agree?"

Medic asked for three more cards before he said, "I do hope the next temporary assistant will be much smarter than the last one. The last one accidentally misplaced both Intel's because he thought they were the Administrator's luggage. It took us almost four hours and fifteen minutes to find them. He put them in the barracks all this time."

Femme Fatale shook her head. "What a shame, really."

"And you _don't_ want to know about the time when he stepped in front of one of the saw blades by mistake. It took us the entire afternoon to clean his mess."

"You can stop it right there, doctor. I am trying to keep my appetite for lunch."

* * *

Heavy and Bodyguard didn't win the morning Lottery, but they still kept their hopes up for the midday news. Soldier, Pyro, and Sniper joined them in the TV Room as they waited for the newscaster to mention today's jackpot. The newscaster kept babbling about John Lennon and Yoko Ono's marriage. This might take a few more minutes. Heavy and Bodyguard kept their eyes on the screen while the others sat back on a different sofa and examined the silly situation.

Soldier cleared his throat. "So how does this work?"

Bodyguard didn't look away as he stated, "The newscaster reveals the date of birth and the place of origin. If you fit both of those, then you are the lucky winner."

Soldier chuckled. "You do realize that this is an _American_ lottery you're talking about."

"So what's the difference?"

"They're looking for those who were born in the United States."

Heavy and Bodyguard slowly looked away simultaneously and stared at each other.

Bodyguard frowned. "We are such idiots."

Heavy closed his eyes. "I feel defeated. My dreams have been shattered."

Soldier felt amused at their loss. "Cheer up, men. I'm sure there are lotteries in Commie Country and Sand Land."

Bodyguard pointed his finger at Soldier and said, "Please do not insult us when we are in this condition."

"Fine, I'll just wait until the newscaster gives out _my_ date of birth and _my_ place of origin."

Pyro laughed. Bodyguard asked, "What about Pyro? Where is he from?"

Sniper whispered, "You don't want to know."

A few seconds later, Spy arrived in the TV Room with a cigarette between his fingers.

"The temporary assistant is in the Cafeteria as we speak."

Soldier replied, "I hope he's more sensible than the idiot that got sliced by that saw blade."

Sniper asked, "What's his name?"

Spy flicked his cigarette out the open window. "His name is Russell Goodrich, and he appears completely experienced."

Bodyguard stood up from the sofa. "How can you tell?"

"He is wearing a clean suit, he is drinking tea, and his eyes are always on his clipboard."

* * *

And Spy was absolutely correct. As soon as Soldier, Heavy, Engineer, and Medic visited the Cafeteria, they found Russell Goodrich wearing a casual purple-colored business suit. He sat with a cup of tea in his hand, and he kept his eyes on the clipboard that lay on the table. The four mercenaries could see that the tall skinny man had short brown hair and a complete lack of facial hair.

Engineer and his teammates stood right in front of Goodrich. "Hello, sir. You must be the temporary assistant that the Administrator hired for the next two weeks."

Goodrich didn't look away from his clipboard as he said with a nonchalant manner, "Yes, I am. My name is Russell Goodrich. I am pleased to meet the members of Reliable Excavation Demolition."

It sounded like he read instructions straight from his clipboard. Heavy waved his hand even if Goodrich didn't stare at him. "Do you know who we are?"

"I have learned much from the RED Team. I have memorized your appearances, your personalities, and your arsenal. You must be the Boris, aka the Heavy Weapons Guy."

"Yes, I am Heavy Weapons Guy. Would you like to see my Minigun?"

"I have already seen a picture of it. It's not very exciting."

Soldier scratched the side of his head. "Did you learn everything there is to know about all this?"

"I know everything. It's required for an occupation such as this. And do not worry. I am the exact opposite of the woman who wanted to extend both lunch and dinner breaks because there was too much fighting on the battlefield. I promise you quality assurance for such an influential job."

Engineer shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever you say, Mr. Goodrich."

Then, he whispered in Soldier's ear. "This is suspicious."

Soldier whispered back, "Having a temporary subordinate leader is _always_ suspicious."

The whistle on the wall signified that breakfast officially ended. Russell Goodrich immediately stood up and faced the direction of the four RED mercenaries.

His voice grew more forceful. "It's now time for work! Tell your colleagues that we have a meeting inside the Central Shed of Mann territory in exactly twenty minutes. Why are you just standing here? Do as I say!"

"Yes, Mr. Goodrich!"

The man's sudden stringency almost caught them off-guard. They ran away from the cafeteria and told the others about the meeting.

* * *

The fifteen RED mercenaries met with Mr. Goodrich in the Central Shed, the core of Sawmill. The rain still didn't cease outside, though the dark clouds from above grew slightly more radiant. With the clipboard in his hand, he called out names in the RED Team to check for attendance.

As soon as he finished, he announced, "I have a complete schedule for all of you. Since today's confrontations will start at five o'clock sharp, everything must be perfect."

Sniper asked, "Do you want us to pick new weapons?"

"That is completely irrelevant to what must be done. I have arranged certain tasks for each mercenary. Before you fight the BLU Team, you must clean the barracks, clean the RED Rooms, clean the Cafeteria, wipe the windows, rearrange the lumber, clean out the pond, clear out the shelves in the warehouse, and mow the lawn."

Assassin felt puzzled. "Mow the lawn? But nobody cares about the grass."

"_You_ don't care about the grass. Mann Co. cares about the grass. Therefore, you must care about the grass as well. Be a team player for once, will you, Yvonne?"

Soldier blurted, "We don't know anything about cleaning, sir! All we do is beat the living daylights out of our enemy."

"Then, maybe it's time you learn a thing or two about enduring maintenance in your station."

Goodrich sent the mercenaries to do their tasks. They left the Central Shed, feeling angry and confused.

Scout, however, stayed inside to have a little word with Goodrich.

Scout tapped him on the shoulder and murmured, "Excuse me, Mr. Goodrich. I kinda got lost with what you said earlier. What am I supposed to do?"

"I think you should pay a little more attention next time. Anyway, you have to help the Pyro and Medic as they rearrange the furniture in the Game Room and TV Room. Then, you must help Soldier with the lumber. And then, you have to be in the cafeteria so you can clean out the kitchen with Engineer and Spy."

"So I have to clean the Game Room first?"

"That is incorrect. First, you must fix the walls of the barracks with new paint."

"You never said that."

"I was _going_ to say it, but you didn't give me a chance."

"So after I paint the walls, I have to clean the TV Room?"

"No, you have to help Pyro and Medic rearrange the furniture in both the Game Room and the Fitness Center."

"But who's cleaning them?"

"I'll let Outlaw and Demoman take care of that."

"But will I rearrange the furniture before or after they clean it up?"

"Before and after."

"Before _and _after?"

"And then, you will help Soldier as he rearranges the lumber."

"Wait, when should I paint the walls?"

"Before the Game Room and Fitness Center are being cleaned."

"And when should I help Soldier with the lumber?"

"After the Game Room and Fitness Center are being cleaned."

"So Outlaw and Demoman are going to clean the rooms twice?"

"That is correct. They will clean them as you paint the walls."

"And then they'll clean them again as I rearrange the lumber?"

"No, no, they'll do it right after you rearrange the furniture in both rooms."

"What rooms?"

"The Game Room and the Fitness Center."

"...I, uh...I'm a little confused."

"Do you want me to run it by you again?"

"PLEASE."

* * *

Outlaw, Demoman, and Weatherman couldn't figure out what to do in the warehouse. Goodrich told them to clear out the shelves and wipe them clean.

Demoman asked, "What does he mean by wiping them clean?"

Outlaw observed the shelves with a keen eye. "I do believe we have to clean the shelves."

"Ah, that is simple enough."

Demoman began to climb the shelves and reached the top. He picked up an oil barrel and threw it down. Outlaw and Weatherman had to step aside to avoid the incoming projectile. Demoman threw a few more oil barrels to the ground. Fortunately, they didn't break and none of the oil inside each container spilled out. Unfortunately, Demoman kept clearing out the top shelf by kicking down the boxes, the buckets, and the 2X4 wood. When he finished, he used a piece of cloth to wipe the surface of the top shelf. Outlaw and Weatherman tried to see if any of the objects that fell from above had been damaged.

Meanwhile, Spy and Femme Fatale had the arduous task of cleaning the bathrooms. They had to use gloves and cleaning sprays to polish the toilets and urinals. And it wasn't a satisfying experience at all. Femme Fatale tried hard not to breathe as she used a scrubber to rinse out the toilet.

"Who would be stupid enough to leave this here without flushing it?"

Spy held a look of disgust. "I can think of a few."

Back in the Central Shed, Assassin and Sniper had to make sure that the two saw blades were entirely spotless. But the saw blades kept on spinning. The two mercenaries had to press their mops against the fast-moving surfaces for a few minutes.

Assassin grew frustrated. "I still can't see if they're clean or not. The saw blades are moving too fast. How can we stop them?"

Sniper replied, "Miss Pauling always had the keys to the basement. I think she still has them with her."

"That's just great. This has been a really bad day, you know that?"

Right outside, Heavy realized that he had never seen a lawn mower before. He asked Engineer where he could find one.

Engineer asked, "I don't know where it is, and I don't want to know. Just use your hands. Pull the grass out of the roots."

Heavy didn't feel like searching for the lawn mower, either. For the next half hour, he ripped the grass right out of the ground with his hands and just threw them aside like sand. It didn't make the RED side of Sawmill look any better, though.

* * *

The RED mercenaries had completed their tasks just in time for lunch break. They all met in the cafeteria. Femme Fatale didn't want to eat because of what she had witnessed in the bathroom. Demoman felt too tired to eat because of all the heavy weights that he lifted in the warehouse. Scout was still confused about the walls and the lumber and such.

Russell Goodrich sat at one of the tables and he looked exactly the same. He drank his tea and he kept his eyes on the clipboard in a very casual manner. Outlaw had the bright idea to sit next to him during lunch, but Goodrich didn't mind. Heavy, Medic, and Femme Fatale joined them. Femme Fatale didn't have anything, but the other three mercenaries had plenty of food on their plates.

Goodrich still had his eyes glued to the clipboard. "I can see that the Russian didn't mow the lawn correctly. I'm going have to take off a few points."

Heavy remarked, "But I _did_ finish the job."

"Yes, but you could at least use the lawn mower."

Outlaw wanted to ask him this question for a very long time. "Are you always like this, Mr. Goodrich?"

Goodrich still didn't look up from his clipboard. "What do you mean?"

"You are always focused on your paperwork. You don't seem to care about those you supervise."

"I wouldn't want to assume that I'm some arrogant authoritarian if I were you. I always try to work hard, and I always try to make sure that Mann Co. has the finest appearance since Ancient Rome."

Femme Fatale rubbed her chin. "Ancient Rome _did_ collapse at some point."

Goodrich took a sip of his tea with patience. "Perhaps I should be honest with you. I don't mind being a working stiff. I do enjoy the labor that I have to provide as a temporary assistant. But I think I've done enough for this company."

Medic asked, "What do you mean?"

Goodrich finally looked up from his clipboard as he replied, "I'm too old to be a temp. I sometimes think of resigning and moving to Florida to become a fisherman."

Outlaw commented, "That could work."

"But then again, work is work. The Administrator chose me to make sure that her employees do their jobs right for the next two weeks. Now, if you will excuse me, I've got some work to do. Confrontations begin in an hour, and I have to be prepared."

"We all have to be prepared, sir."

Goodrich didn't respond as he gazed back at his clipboard.

* * *

"_Mission begins in five minutes_."

The RED and BLU Team readied for another afternoon of nonstop action. In the spawn area, the RED mercenaries loaded their weapons and kept their melee weapons by their side. They tried to be confident for today's battles, but Goodrich soon became an annoyance from inside the spawn area. He demanded that Pyro take out the trash and Medic reorganize the resupply locker before the first battle even started. Medic cursed something under his breath, but it was in German.

"_Five...four...three...two...one...Protect the Intelligence_!"

The RED Team exited the barracks and ran toward the Central Shed. It seemed like any other battle in Mann territory. Heavy used his Minigun, Medic charged up his Medi Gun, Sniper looked for an easy target, Demoman spammed grenades, and Bodyguard handed Bottles of Steroids to those in need of it. But Goodrich made a few changes, and it wasn't pretty.

Just as Sniper was about to pull the trigger and take out a BLU Outlaw, Goodrich interrupted him, causing him to miss his target. Goodrich kept questioning him about his Jarate, and why he would collect his urine in such clear jars. Sniper told him that the see-through items didn't bother him. Goodrich didn't budge, because he kept complaining about jars that were in plain sight of any BLU Spy that would be nearby. Sniper tried to ignore him, but Goodrich's nonstop babble interrupted his concentration. This resulted in Sniper yelling at him as a BLU Soldier fired a rocket straight at the Australian.

Sniper respawned almost immediately. He felt relieved that he didn't have to endure Goodrich's complaints, but it proved to be short-lived. Goodrich returned to the spawn area and continued to criticize Sniper's selection of jars. Sniper felt like screaming at the top of his lungs.

Later, Medic found himself on one of the rooftops. Several mercenaries cried out for some healing. He used his Quick Fix on a wounded Rocketeer. But then, Goodrich stood right behind him and watched as Medic finished healing Rocketeer. Medic jumped off the rooftop and headed for the Central Shed.

Goodrich followed from behind and said, "Soldier needs some healing."

Medic didn't say a word he began healing Soldier.

But Goodrich didn't stop talking for the next several minutes.

"Outlaw needs healing. Scout needs healing. Assassin needs healing. Spy needs healing. Pyro needs healing."

Goodrich, who constantly stood behind the German doctor, almost drove him crazy. Even as Medic used his Crusader's Crossbow against an incoming BLU Demoman, Goodrich commented that the Vintage Syringe Gun or even the Overdose would have been more preferable choices. Medic cursed under his breath yet again.

Goodrich couldn't even leave Engineer alone. As the Texan with the hardhat constructed a Level 3 Sentry, Goodrich examined his Dispenser, which was situated near the entrance to RED's Intel Room. Goodrich began to comment on the poor placement of such a dependable creation. Engineer tried to avoid his harsh criticism, but Goodrich uttered, "It's never such a good idea to leave such a fine instrument out in the open where BLU spies could easily obtain it."

Engineer blurted, "Just let me do my job, Mr. Goodrich. I know what I'm doing."

Goodrich folded his arms across his chest with the clipboard still in his left hand. "You shouldn't talk back to your assistant, Mr. Conaugher. In case you didn't know, it's considered impolite."

Engineer felt like using his Eureka Effect against the man who couldn't stop talking.

A few minutes later, near the waterfall, Femme Fatale prepared to fight against a BLU Sniper. She brandished her Straight Razor while he revealed his Tribalman's Shiv. They battled each other, hand-to-hand. Goodrich stood on a rooftop and watched as both mercenaries used their hands instead of their weapons.

He yelled out, "Why are you using such a small melee weapon, might I ask?"

Femme Fatale kicked BLU Sniper right in the stomach, which caused him to fly backwards. She yelled at Goodrich, "The size doesn't matter! It's how you use it."

"But look at the size of his machete! He could knock you out cold with just one smack!"

BLU Sniper lunged at her. They continued their brawl, but Goodrich kept on examining their physical conflict.

"Victoria, the best thing you can do is slit his throat!"

"Please, Mr. Goodrich, let me handle this myself!"

At that precise moment, BLU Sniper elbowed her chin and threw her into the pond.

Goodrich shook his head as the two of them fought endlessly in the water.

"Pitiful...just pitiful."

But it didn't stop with Femme Fatale. Goodrich caught Heavy eating a Fishcake right outside the spawn area. He asked the Russian why he would eat such an innutritious snack.

Heavy replied, "It is good for body."

"Why don't you try some carrot sticks next time?"

Heavy narrowed his eyes. "Do you think I am fat?!"

"I think you're too stubborn to make the right choices."

Heavy almost attacked Goodrich when both Medic and Bodyguard pulled him back. They shook their heads at him, and he could do nothing but take a deep breath.

Once Scout and Assassin trudged through the shallow waters of BLU's Intel Room, they found themselves alone. This would be the perfect opportunity to capture the Intel. But someone stopped them from achieving their goal. Goodrich, who stood right alongside the closed safe, remarked on their inability to remember the combination for the lock correctly. He criticized them for their lack of mathematical remembrance, while a BLU Engineer constructed a sentry inside the room in a laidback manner. Scout and Assassin were so immersed in their heated debate with Goodrich that they didn't even notice the completed Level 3 Sentry a few feet behind them.

Goodrich raised his hands to silence the two young mercenaries and said, "I will let you do this yourself. In the meantime, try to think of a way to escape the enemy's gunfire. I'll see you two later."

The man left the room, leaving Scout and Assassin to try and defend themselves against BLU Engineer's dangerous construction. The Level 3 Sentry fired both bullets and rockets without even giving the RED mercenaries a chance to escape.

* * *

Almost a week had passed since Russell Goodrich took over as Miss Pauling's temporary replacement. It became more of a chore than a daily routine. Goodrich didn't stop commenting on the mercenaries' performances on the battlefield. He also didn't stop giving them certain tasks that are generally similar to a janitor's.

On a Thursday afternoon, he sent selected RED mercenaries to rearrange the lumber yet again. Scout, Soldier, Outlaw, Heavy, and Bodyguard carried large stacks of wood and headed for the Shed Area. Scout suddenly cut his finger with a splinter. It didn't feel painful, but it was enough for him to finally express himself.

"I can't take this anymore! This Goodrich guy is a control freak!"

Bodyguard dropped his 2X4 lumber on the floor. "You are certainly right. He can't make us do these things."

Soldier wiped sweat from off his forehead. "We're not supposed to paint walls and rearrange furniture. We're not custodians. We're mercenaries!"

Outlaw sighed. "He made us drain the Intel Room twice, even when the rain still didn't stop."

Heavy uttered, "This _baby man_ makes me angry."

Scout grunted, "I can't believe I am saying this, but I can't wait until Miss Pauling returns from vacation."

Outlaw replied, "Don't remind me. We have one more week with Goodrich by our side."

Bodyguard asked, "What do you suppose we should do?"

Scout raised a finger. "I say we kill him."

Soldier shook his head. "No, no, no, we have to be more reasonable than that. I say we break his fingers, pull out his toenails, and rip out his stomach and make him eat it. _Then_ we kill him."

Heavy added, "But we cannot disappoint Administrator."

Outlaw looked off in the distance. "You're right. He was handpicked by the Administrator herself. Why don't we just form a mutiny?"

"It would be best for him to quit job and move to Florida." Heavy rubbed his chin. "Hmm...I think I have good idea."

Bodyguard gave an evil grin. "I would like to hear it."

"Do you remember about lottery on television?"

"Yes, I do."

"Maybe we can call news station and ask if we can rig lottery."

"That sounds like an excellent idea."

Outlaw commented, "I don't think we have the power to do such a thing."

"Maybe we can call Saxton Hale."

"I don't think _he_ would do such a thing."

Scout asked, "Why don't we just find out, huh?"

* * *

On Friday morning, Russell Goodrich found Heavy and Bodyguard watching the news in the TV Room. The temporary assistant didn't have anything planned for the rest of the morning, so he decided to join the two big-boned individuals. He sat on a different sofa as he watched the newscaster declaring some trivial local news.

Heavy asked, "Are you ready for lottery, Mr. Goodrich?"

Goodrich raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean the lottery? I haven't even bought a ticket."

"This is special lottery. They tell you date of birth and place of origin. If you have both correct, then you win fifty thousand dollars."

"That sounds like a fine jackpot. But it's always a slim chance."

Heavy and Bodyguard looked at each other with keen anticipation.

The newscaster began the declaration of today's lottery. He gave out the date of birth and the place of origin. Mr. Goodrich slowly opened his mouth in shock.

"Augusta, Maine! _I'm_ from Augusta! And that's my birthday. The newscaster just said my birthday out loud! I won! I won the lottery! I can't believe it!"

Goodrich jumped up in excitement. "Fifty thousand dollars! I won fifty thousand dollars! I know what I'm going to do now. I'm going to quit my job and move to Miami! It's my dream come true!"

Goodrich ran out of the room, sprinting right past Outlaw. The Argentinian mercenary asked Heavy and Bodyguard if it was all over.

Heavy revealed his teeth as he grinned. "We have nothing to worry about now."

* * *

Russell Goodrich packed his bags and left Sawmill at noon to grab his jackpot and head for Florida. Thanks for some secret colleagues in Mann Co., the RED team felt relieved that they would never see Goodrich again. When evening approached, Scout, Assassin, Engineer, Heavy, Medic, Femme Fatale, and Bodyguard stayed in the TV Room to watch a medical drama on Channel 5.

Administrator arrived with a not-so-amused look on her face.

"I hope you're satisfied. Russell Goodrich has no chance in returning to Mann Co. because of that silly lottery that you have fixed."

The mercenaries waved it off.

Scout stated, "At least he's fulfilling his dream to become a fisherman."

Administrator's smirk became suspicious. "Fortunately, there still work to be done. Since Goodrich is no longer working for us, I have selected another replacement for Miss Pauling."

"Is it the same one who tried to make us eat healthier?"

"Definitely not. Ladies and gentlemen, I would like you to meet the Henderson Twins."

The mercenaries looked away from the television screen and spotted two tall and muscular male twins standing behind the Administrator. They looked tough, looking as if they were ready for a typical boxing match.

The twins caught the mercenaries by surprise.

Scout could only whisper, "...ah, crap."

TO BE CONTINUED...


	53. SS - A Night on Thunder Mountain

SHORT STORY

A Night on Thunder Mountain

* * *

March, 1969

It seemed almost unusual for just one RED mercenary to stay in the TV Room. Typically, seven or eight teammates would gather around to watch a classic movie or a hilarious game show. But on a Saturday afternoon in Thunder Mountain, Assassin found an interesting scene. The Pyro was alone in the room with his gas mask still on, sitting on a single wooden stool in front of the gigantic TV screen. He watched nothing but ongoing static as he sat still. Assassin wanted to say something, but the silent eeriness surrounding the Pyro and the TV kept her mouth shut. She couldn't really tell if he was still alive. He didn't even move a muscle. Assassin walked around him and stood beside him. She glanced at the TV screen before she kept her permanent gaze on the man in the gas mask.

"Uh...Pyro? Are you okay?"

Pyro didn't respond. He just stared at the static.

"Are you alive?"

Assassin was about to lay her hand on his shoulder, but someone else's hand pulled her arm away. She immediately turned her head to see Spy with a somber look on his face.

He whispered, "You would not want to disturb him at a time like this."

He pressed his index finger against his lips to signal absolute silence. Both mercenaries walked away from an apparently attentive Pyro and left the TV Room. Once they reached the Fitness Center, Heavy began to use the dumbbells while Weatherman took his time bench pressing.

Spy breathed a sigh of relief. "No one should have to endure the pain and suffering when interrupting his favorite past time."

Assassin grew curious. "Are you talking about Pyro?"

"Yes, I'm afraid I am."

Weatherman placed the weights back on the rack and sat up. "What are you guys talking about?"

Assassin replied, "Pyro is in the TV Room and watching nothing but static."

"I'd say that's _very_ unusual."

"Yeah, but I'm still trying to figure out why he would do such a thing."

Spy gave an almost immediate answer. "The Pyro is such a mysterious figure. One could shutter even at the thought of his questionable actions."

"Do you even know who this guy is?"

"_Nobody_ knows who he is."

Weatherman joined in on the conversation. "So you worked with this guy for a few years, and you still don't know anything about him?"

"We try, but we always fail."

Heavy stopped with his own weightlifting. "I fear no man, but that...that thing scares me."

Spy felt like having a cigarette, but fought against it. "It is better to be at peace with ignorance, especially at midnight."

Assassin asked, "Why? What's going to happen at midnight?"

"The Pyro is to be left alone. He is going to do some 'conjuring' of his own."

Weatherman lowered the tone of his voice. "Care to elaborate what that means?"

"Just stay out of sight when he is having fun."

Both Spy and Heavy left the room, leaving Assassin and Weatherman to ponder what they had just been told.

* * *

An hour later, Assassin and Weatherman joined the rest of the new recruits in the cafeteria. Rocketeer was nowhere to be found. Outlaw stated that the young man didn't feel hungry at this time. Assassin, Outlaw, Weatherman, Femme Fatale, and Bodyguard sat together at two tables standing close to each other. Weatherman got rid of his red-colored shirt that he always wrapped around his waist. He replaced it with a red-colored long-sleeved sweatshirt. He decided to wear it around his waist for the rest of the new season.

Just as they asked what each of them would eat for dinner, Assassin spotted Pyro sitting in the corner with a small hourglass on his table. The sands inside kept tumbling downwards. Pyro and the recruits were the only ones in the dining room.

Assassin whispered to Outlaw, "Do you see that? Why the heck does he have an hourglass in the first place?"

Outlaw shrugged his shoulders. "It's a complete mystery to me."

Just as the sands finished its final stage, Pyro immediately turned the hourglass upside down and watched as the cycle repeated itself.

Assassin remarked, "I think there's something wrong with that guy."

Bodyguard chuckled. "He's just delusional. It goes well with his current occupation."

Pyro walked away from the table and left the cafeteria, leaving the hourglass behind.

Weatherman asked the other recruits, "Does anyone know about him?"

Femme Fatale shook his head. "I tried asking Sniper about it, but all I had gotten was a vague response. He said he and the rest of the group have no idea who he is."

Assassin asked, "What about the Administrator, or Miss Pauling?"

"I did not have time to ask them about it."

"The Pyro is a very strange person."

Outlaw sighed. "I can only imagine what he will do tonight."

Assassin raised her eyebrows. "You mean you also know about it?"

"Soldier and Demoman warned me to stay out of sight."

"Spy told us to do the exact same thing."

Bodyguard appeared confused. "I think you need to explain to me what you all are talking about."

Femme Fatale replied, "Everyone wants us to stay away from Pyro when midnight arrives."

"Why would they give you such a warning?"

Assassin gazed back at the hourglass, which had just finished with its final stage. "Maybe we should see for ourselves. I'd say we sneak outside and discover the absolute truth behind Pyro's unexplained performance."

Weatherman nodded. "I'm with you on that."

Bodyguard laughed. "I don't think I want to stay up all night."

Femme Fatale interrupted, "But this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Nazir."

"I don't care. It could be a gag, or worse, a complete waste of time. I'm going to go ahead and order something. I would like to forget this conversation, thank you very much."

Bodyguard left the two tables and headed for the front counter where he met up with Leonard the chef.

Weatherman waved him off. "Forget about Bodyguard. Let's think about how we do this."

Assassin, Outlaw, Weatherman, and Femme Fatale whispered to each other and made sure that no one else in the building would overhear any of them.

* * *

With the exception of Rocketeer and Bodyguard, the new recruits didn't sleep as planned. They lay wide awake in their beds until a few minutes before midnight. They snuck out of their bedrooms in their original uniforms and gathered in the hallway. They tried hard to take soundless footsteps as they headed for the RED Rooms. Femme Fatale took a peek inside the TV Room. To her slight amazement, she saw Pyro, still fully clothed, opening an instrument case and pulling out a violin. The mercenary in the gas mask plucked the strings, presumably to tune it.

Outlaw whispered to Femme Fatale, "What is happening?"

"It appears that he is going to play the violin."

Assassin scratched her head. "I didn't think he knew how to play one."

As the Pyro picked up his bow, the new recruits walked away from the RED Rooms in hopes of not being seen.

The Pyro took a walk outside in the cold and silent night. Storm clouds gathered together and floated above the Final Spiral (Stage C) of Thunder Mountain. The lack of a brilliant moon meant that the external lights had to give off an artificial glow. The Pyro placed the violin's chin rest onto his neck and began to play a slow and eerily melodic tune.

The new RED recruits hid behind a wall and listened. Both Outlaw and Femme Fatale recognized the first few notes of the composition as the first movement to Jean Sibelius's _Violin Concerto_. Pyro performed it in a slow and steady tempo. He took a stroll and headed for the BLU Bomb that rested comfortably at the start of the railroad tracks.

As they still hid behind the wall, the four mercenaries debated whether or not they should follow the mysterious musician. Outlaw fought against it, saying that they should probably return to their bedrooms in order to avoid a musical interruption. The others wanted to fulfill their curiosity. Outlaw had no choice but to follow them and conceal themselves in the natural darkness as they tiptoed toward the BLU Bomb. They observed Pyro as he followed the tracks to revisit the first checkpoint. At the moment, he started to play a new melody with his violin: "Anitra's Dance" from Edvard Grieg's _Peer Gynt_.

Something in the grass caught Weatherman's attention. A rose began to blossom. He knew it to be a rose because of its red color and thorny stem. To make matters even stranger, the rose didn't stop growing. Weatherman and the other mercenaries observed its evolutionary enlargement. The stem grew higher, and the actual rose began to look like a mutated casserole. Suddenly, several more flowers emerged from the dirt. They ranged from marigolds to tulips. They underwent the same phase: lengthened stems and mutated bulbs.

Assassin grew tense. "What the hell is going on here?"

Outlaw whispered, "I believe it has something to do with the violin."

Pyro had just entered the building where the first checkpoint was located. Assassin, Outlaw, Weatherman, and Femme Fatale followed from behind. Perhaps the growing blossoms did have something to do with the melodies performed by the man in the mask.

At the first checkpoint, he continued to play "Anitra's Dance." Little creatures infiltrated the building. Squirrels, chipmunks, falcons, lizards, and even turtles began to roam around Pyro while he expressed himself with the assistance of a bow and a violin. The squirrels, chipmunks, and lizards sprinted all around him in circles. The falcons revealed themselves in the ceiling. The turtles, in a surprising fashion, used all of their newly discovered strength and scampered toward Pyro.

The RED mercenaries, who hid behind crates and stacks of barrels, found this to be a mesmerizing spectacle.

Femme Fatale remarked, "Could the Pyro be a wizard of some sort?"

Outlaw shook his head. "He must be more than a wizard."

By the time they exited the first checkpoint, the Pyro and the lively animals went straight for the second checkpoint. When they reached the bridge that was connected to the next building, the four spectators looked down. Much to their dismay, the mutated flowers still didn't stop growing. Once more, green scaly vines began to slither on the lower walls of the main tower.

Assassin remained speechless, while Weatherman blurted, "Why is this happening?!"

In the distance, they could hear Pyro playing another composition. Assassin could easily identify it because she heard it numerous times back in Southern California. It was _Danse Macabre_ by Camille Saint-Saëns.

She gulped. "I don't think I'm gonna like this piece after this."

An ear-piercing roar coming from behind caused the four recruits to turn around. A ferocious-looking mountain lion revealed his sharp teeth.

Outlaw grunted. "Oh, I hope they didn't turn off the respawn system."

It bent his knees to most likely lunge at them. But it didn't jump. Assassin, Outlaw, Weatherman, and Femme Fatale could only watch as the mountain lion seemed to grow in height. Its claws grew longer, its fur grew more disorderly, and its teeth became wet because of increased saliva. The four mercenaries gazed at its hybrid metamorphosis.

Weatherman took a few steps back. "Maybe it's time that we RUN!"

Assassin, Outlaw, Weatherman, and Femme Fatale ran in the direction of the second checkpoint. Once inside the building, they immediately noticed the green vines surrounding the walls.

Femme Fatale yelled, "Pyro must stop playing the violin!"

In front of them were the chipmunks, lizards, and squirrels that danced around Pyro. They were now growing into a more substantial size. One of the squirrels gave a sinister roar. The four mercenaries ran right past them.

They finally reached the top of the tower. Pyro stood in the center, still playing the violin. But this time, he began to play an unfamiliar composition. It sounded eerie, almost otherworldly. It didn't sound like it came from a European composer. In the heavens above, constant bursts of lightning plagued the dark storm clouds. The vines continued to grow around the tower. The mutated animals now wandered around all around the Final Spiral. The falcons now looked like terrifying griffins as they soared above Thunder Mountain. Mutant frogs jumped on every rooftop in Mann territory. Speedy rabbits scurried from here to there.

Assassin, Outlaw, Weatherman, and Femme Fatale could do nothing but watch Pyro alter the environment with his violin.

Weatherman observed the monumental pandemonium regarding Mother Nature. "I can't believe this!"

All of a sudden, an enormous vine reached for Assassin. She didn't have time to react as it wrapped itself around her, from her chest to her knees. It raised her up in the air. She used her fists to punch it hard, but to no avail. It pulled her closer to a gigantic rose that had undergone a drastic transformation. The bulbs revealed a gaping mouth. The entire flower was now the size of the central tower. As the enlarged rose growled, Assassin screamed.

Meanwhile, the other three mercenaries found themselves being attacked by fast-moving centipedes. The tiny arthropods crawled all around their clothes. The humans tried to either swap them away or shake them off, but more and more centipedes stuck themselves on their bodies.

Pyro stopped playing the violin and watched as his teammates struggled to fight off the swarm of insects.

Weatherman shouted, "What are you?!"

Pyro raised his violin in the air and gave a mighty laugh, which was partially obscured because of his mask. A bolt of lightning almost hit the top of the tower. Pyro took pleasure in controlling the scenery. It looked like the swarm of centipedes could almost smother Outlaw, Weatherman, and Femme Fatale entirely. It appeared the Assassin could become the rose's first midnight snack.

* * *

But it never happened. Everything returned to normal once morning arrived. The Final Spiral of Thunder Mountain looked empty and uninhabited. It was almost as if nothing occurred during midnight.

Bodyguard visited the cafeteria. He found Assassin, Outlaw, Weatherman, and Femme Fatale eating their breakfast in silence. It seemed almost unnatural for them to stay so calm and hushed. At the other end of the dining room, Pyro observed his hourglass yet again. The sands kept tumbling downwards into the bottom. Bodyguard wanted to know what just happened last night.

He joined his friends and said, "I thought I heard a loud roar at midnight. Do you know anything about it?"

The four silent mercenaries stared at him, and then at Pyro. They concentrated on their breakfast once more.

Femme Fatale could only say, "I think it was just the wind."

Bodyguard asked, "What happened last night? Did Pyro do anything amiss?"

Assassin replied in a monotonous tone, "Nothing went wrong. He didn't do anything. Everything's fine."

Pyro could see that they didn't want to reveal the truth. He felt relieved.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	54. SS - American Revelation

SHORT STORY

American Revelation

* * *

April, 1969

"Who the hell is that?"

"Looks like the kinda guy who's looking for work."

Soon after they finished eating breakfast in the cafeteria, Scout and Rocketeer wanted to spend the Wednesday morning by trying out their first game of shooting clay pigeons, something that had been recently added in Thunder Mountain. But once they left the building, they spotted a complete stranger in the far distance discussing an unknown subject with both Medic and Spy. Scout and Rocketeer could see that it was a blond-haired man who looked skinny and fairly young. He wore a black jacket and blue jeans. His hair, which was of medium length, had already reached his shoulders. It seemed almost suspicious to Rocketeer, but it didn't mean anything to Scout.

He remarked, "I bet he's just another guy who wants to be a part of Mann Co."

Rocketeer asked, "How can you tell?"

"There's always someone who's visiting and asking if the Administrator had any jobs available. This one looks like he's a little lost. It's typical. The driving directions aren't very helpful. I would know."

"Judging by his appearance, he looks like he wants to become an assistant of some sort."

Scout sniggered. "Yeah, he'll probably flush the toilets for us or something."

When he finished his conversation with Medic and Spy, the blond man walked toward Scout and Rocketeer's direction. Both Scout and Rocketeer acted casual, as if they knew nothing of his presence. The blond man found them leaning against the pillars in front of the cafeteria.

He said, "Hello, there."

Scout noticed his European accent. And upon close inspection, he had a complete lack of facial hair. "I can tell that you're not from around here."

The blond man replied, "Yes, you are correct. I am from Sweden."

Rocketeer smiled. "Well, we're pleased to meet you. I'm Jason and this is Simon."

The blond man shook their hands. "My name is Kasper, Kasper Lindstrom."

Scout asked, "So what brings you here?"

"I am looking for work."

A typical applicant, no surprise there. "Are you looking to become a combatant?"

"No, I have no experience in the battlefield. I am interested in either culinary or economic positions."

"Do you have an appointment with Miss Pauling?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. I have to meet her in one hour. I wanted to arrive early, but it turns out that I'm _much_ too early. I didn't think I would find this place so soon. I believe it had something to do with driving directions."

"At least you made it here in time. You can't imagine all those people missing their appointments by seven or eight hours. It's pretty depressing if you think about it."

Kasper raised his eyebrows. "Why would that be the case?"

Scout whispered, "This place is a secret. Don't forget that."

Kasper gave a nod. "I don't know what I should do in the next sixty minutes. I've already eaten, and I don't have any reading material."

"I think it's a good idea that you get to know this place a little more. That way, you'll get to see what's in store for you if you're hired. Come on. Jason and I will introduce you to our teammates. But you better be careful. Some of them are not exactly the friendly type...kinda like me."

* * *

In the meantime, Engineer told three of his friends to meet him at the entrance to the warehouse. Once there, Soldier, Demoman, and Sniper didn't feel very self-assured about Engineer's apparent enthusiasm.

He gave a smile as he said, "They're finally here. Everything is accounted for."

Demoman asked, "What are you talking about?"

Engineer revealed the two dozen boxes, which were the size of trucks, sitting on the bottom shelves.

Sniper folded his arms across his chest. "You're trying to make a Level Four Sentry, aren't you?"

"You're way off, Howard. Inside all these boxes are the essential items that are required for the brand new restrooms that I've been talking about for the past few days."

Engineer unrolled the blueprints and showed them to his three teammates. "This is going to be even bigger and better than what we usually go through in our morning routines. There will be new showers, new toilets, new dispensers, and best of all, five new hot tubs for all fifteen of us."

Soldier felt a little perplexed. "You brought in _hot tubs_?"

"Heck, yeah! Just think of it as our own personal spa."

Demoman's grin grew bigger. "I'm starting to like this already."

Engineer added, "Construction is already planned for the entire weekend. All I need are some volunteers."

His three teammates quickly backed away. Soldier grunted as he said, "Oh, no. Not this time, Engie."

"I thought you liked these sorts of projects."

"We did, at first. Then, we found out how long it would take to actually finish it. The RED Rooms were too much of a hassle back in January. I think we had enough of wet cement, quarrelling women, and heart attacks."

Engineer raised a finger. "But think of it this way. The work always pays off. Sure, we had some trouble constructing the entirety of the RED Rooms. Luckily, by the end, we took pleasure in its foundation. This could be the same. Nothing's greater than relaxing in a hot tub after a hard day's work."

Demoman murmured, "Count me in, lad. I've always wanted my own health resort."

"That's the spirit!"

Soldier sighed. "This better be worth it."

The four RED mercenaries left the warehouse. A few minutes later, Sniper informed them of the new clay pigeons that had been delivered this morning. Once they reached the second checkpoint to the Final Spiral, Sniper showed the fully-automated clay pigeon thrower to his teammates. He set it right on the balcony below the second checkpoint, which stood in the center of the overpass.

He asked, "Who's willing to take down some clay pigeons?"

Demoman raised his hand. "I'll show you how to break them apart."

"How? You don't even possess a pistol."

"I don't have to."

As Engineer loaded the thrower with at least a dozen orange-colored clay discs, Outlaw arrived with a tray of coffee mugs.

He frowned and said, "I shouldn't bring your drinks to you. The cafeteria isn't even that far away."

Engineer replied, "We know, but you're so good at bringing us some fine refreshments."

Outlaw rolled his eyes as Soldier, Demoman, Engineer, and Sniper selected their mugs. At the same time, Scout and Rocketeer arrived with an unfamiliar individual. They introduced Kasper Lindstrom to their teammates and told them about his job interview.

Sniper examined Kasper's clothing. "Seeing as how you're not wearing a suit, I'm guessing that you're interested in becoming a mercenary."

Kasper shook his head. "No, the combat zone never intrigues me...though the combatants that fight for their lives _do_."

Soldier focused on his cup of coffee all this time. Just as he took a sip, he looked up just in time to see Kasper closing his eyes and brushing several strands of his blond hair with his fingers. The Swede's good looks caught Soldier by surprise. He immediately coughed in a forceful fashion and looked away.

Outlaw asked, "Is there something wrong?"

Soldier became dishonest. "You didn't put enough sugar in this coffee, Miguel!"

"I already put in five cubes, which is what you told me to do."

"Then, it looks like Leonard's doing a real piss-poor job with beverages these days."

Sniper cleared his throat as he asked Kasper, "So when's your interview?"

"It starts in one hour. I don't know what I should do in the meantime."

Engineer finished loading the clay pigeon thrower. "How about you try your hand at some pigeon shooting?"

"It's okay. I'll just watch."

"Whatever you like."

Sniper brandished his vintage Sniper Rifle while Demoman stuffed a few Sticky Bombs in his Sticky Bomb Launcher.

Sniper asked him, "You're going to shoot clay pigeons with _that_?"

Demoman chuckled. "It gives me a greater chance of taking them all down. And besides, who says that we shouldn't use explosives for such a sport?"

Sniper gave him a curious glance before raising his weapon and aiming at the sky.

"Are you ready, Conaugher?"

Engineer gave a thumbs-up. "Ready when you are, Mundy."

"Pull!"

Engineer pressed the little red button on the thrower. It took only a split second for the robotic arm to hurl the inverted saucer straight into the open air. Sniper pulled the trigger and with a loud burst of gunfire, the flying saucer exploded.

Sniper grinned as he said, "Score one for the man with the camper van!"

It was now Demoman's turn. He yelled, "Pull!"

He shot a Sticky Bomb in the air just as the second saucer flew across the alpine hills. As it neared its intended target, Demoman detonated it, and both items exploded. He laughed as the remaining pieces fell to the floor underneath the balcony and the underpass.

Kasper rubbed his chin. "You use explosives to take down your targets. I like that."

Soldier gave a sidelong glance at the young Swede.

Rocketeer rubbed his hands together. "Hey, I wanna try my luck with this competition."

Sniper reloaded his rifle. "Nothing is stopping you, mate."

With the tray still in his hand, Outlaw uttered, "I'm going back to the cafeteria. Don't ask me to serve you anything else when I'm in such a bad mood."

At this moment, Scout, Rocketeer, Soldier, Demoman, Engineer, and Sniper took turns with clay pigeons. Engineer loaded more saucers in the thrower. Kasper Lindstrom stood aside and watched as the mercenaries competed against each other. Soldier gave a brief glance once more at the Swede as he loaded his Shotgun. He kept quiet, but deep in his mind, he found himself mesmerized by the young man's charisma. Soldier tried to focus on his own weapon.

Kasper, who stood a few feet away from him, asked, "Do Americans always enjoy this sort of sport?"

Soldier kept his eyes on his Shotgun as he said, "Only those who are man enough to admit that it's all about survival of the fittest."

"That's good."

Kasper unzipped his black jacket and took it off, revealing a plain white t-shirt underneath. Soldier caught a glimpse of Kasper now in his white shirt and blue jeans. Soldier almost dropped his Shotgun, but retrieved it in both of his hands right away. Demoman noticed an apparent nervousness that Soldier never expressed before.

Kasper remarked, "It's a gorgeous day, isn't it, sir?"

Soldier grunted. "Please, just call me Jane Doe."

"Your name is Jane Doe?"

Sniper whispered in Kasper's ear. "Call him Troy from now on. _We_ do."

Sniper went back to his clay pigeons as Kasper took a few steps closer towards Soldier.

"Tell me something...Troy...where are you from?"

"From the good ol' United States. Where else?"

"I mean, where did you come from originally? Cleveland? St. Louis?"

"Actually, I'm from Pittsburgh."

"Oh, I hear that they have a magnificent football team."

"You heard correct, Mr. Lindstrom."

"Oh, please. Just call me Kasper."

"...Okay, then."

Kasper now stood right next to him. He was at least half a head shorter than Soldier. "I have never met such enthusiastic men. You can turn a typical game of clay pigeon shooting into the World Cup."

"I wish Yvonne and Victoria felt the same way."

"Oh, there are female mercenaries as well?"

"Yes, there are. But don't get your hopes up. Both of them are already taken."

Kasper lowered the volume of his voice. "It doesn't bother me. I'm not interested in women, anyway. I prefer men."

That statement caused Soldier to accidentally pull the trigger and send a pile of scattered pellets straight at a flying clay pigeon. The disk exploded. The sudden burst of gunfire caught both Soldier and Kasper by surprise.

Rocketeer had an amused look on his face as he told Soldier, "You just stole my kill!"

Scout and Engineer laughed, but Demoman had a feeling that something bothered his American friend.

Soldier had to think of an insult fast. "That's what you get for using a Jetpack, son. Real men use rockets to fly!"

Rocketeer gave a little sarcasm as he said, "Of course, why didn't _I_ think of that?"

Kasper laughed. "Oh, Troy, you are so funny."

"Yeah...excuse me. I'll be right back."

Soldier left the balcony in silence. Demoman laid his Sticky Bomb Launcher on the floor and said to his teammates that he'll return in a few minutes.

* * *

The Scotsman found him sitting on the stairs below the central tower of Final Spiral. Soldier held a blank expression as he stared at the floor. Demoman sat next to him.

"I think I know what's going on."

"Well, don't state the obvious."

Demoman patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, lad. There are plenty of other guys who look as handsome as he is."

"I can't help it. I take one look at Kasper, and it feels like love at first sight."

"I don't think his girlfriend will approve. That is, if he actually has one."

"He doesn't have one. In fact, he's not interested in women. He's just like me."

Demoman understood. "Oh, I understand now. Why don't you ask if he can join you for a cup of coffee next time?"

"And reveal the truth to everyone here? Listen, DeGroot, this sort of thing is much harder than it looks."

"It doesn't look like Mr. Lindstrom is having any trouble with himself. He seems confident."

"Maybe it's best that I just forget about him."

"Oh, don't feel so miserable. This could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you. Young men like him are in short supply, you know. He could be the sort of man who would do some interesting favors, if you know what I mean."

"Why do _you_ care, anyway? You only like women."

"You're my friend, Troy. I want to see you happy for once. And I'm not talking about the maniacal sort of happy. Just the ordinary 'life is good' happy."

"I don't think I'll feel that way once the Scout and the Medic find out about me."

"You never care what they think. What's so different about this?"

Soldier was about to respond to that, but the sight of Kasper Lindstrom in the corner of his eye made him close his mouth. Demoman turned his head to see the Swede standing at the top of the stairs.

He said, "I am guessing that you're not talking about the clay pigeons."

Demoman stood up. "Actually, we were just talking about you."

Soldier waved his hand at Demoman in disapproval and whispered, "Shut your mouth."

But that didn't stop Demoman from saying, "The Yankee is hoping that Miss Pauling will hire you."

"Why? Because of good manners?"

"No, because of good looks."

Soldier looked away and rubbed his neck with his hand.

Kasper asked, "What do you mean by that?"

Demoman replied, "I really shouldn't be saying this, but-"

"Don't tell me. I already know about Jane Doe. He's just like me."

Soldier stood up and asked, "What tipped you off?"

Kasper smiled. "You acted so awkward when we were on the balcony. I had a feeling that you couldn't stop staring at me."

"Who would?"

Kasper chuckled. A long moment of silence fell over the stairs. Demoman broke the stillness by saying, "He's not your average combatant. He'll annihilate everything in his path. I remember one time when he saved the Medic from a BLU Spy's backstab. There was another time when he stole the Intel in just twenty seconds flat. Oh, and remember when you took that Bottle of Steroids from Bodyguard and fought against a BLU Scout, a BLU Pyro, a BLU Sniper, and a BLU Outlaw all at once? They didn't even stand a chance."

Soldier blurted, "I think you've made your point, DeGroot. But nobody's interested in what I do on the battlefield."

Demoman gave a little grin. "Oh, no?"

He pointed at Kasper, who looked genuinely amazed at the stories he told.

Soldier cleared his throat, "I mean, nobody's interested in what I do because they're sick and tired of hearing how I always beat the crap out of BLU."

Kasper remarked, "Please tell me more."

Demoman nodded. "Why don't I leave you two alone?"

He walked up the stairs, leaving the American and the Swede to get to know each other a little more.

* * *

When he returned to the balcony, Sniper asked what happened with Soldier. Demoman told him that he was giving Kasper a lecture on how the entire system of Mann Co. works.

Scout appeared a little bewildered. "I don't get it, man. He never cares about applicants. What makes Kasper so unique?"

Rocketeer shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe Troy just wants to try something new by giving him a head start on how to handle Miss Pauling's rejection."

"Nah, that sounds a bit too complicated. I think it has to do with Kasper."

Demoman felt suspicious as Scout scratched his head in deep thought.

The Bostonian snapped his fingers. "He's trying to keep Kasper away because he's Swedish."

Sniper sounded unimpressed when he said, "That can't be the case. He never had problems with our six new recruits last year."

Rocketeer added, "Mundy's got a point."

Scout kept on thinking. "Okay, okay, there's gotta be another reason. Maybe...he thinks the Swede could become a good mercenary."

Sniper replied, "That's highly unlikely."

"Okay, then. How about...?"

Demoman blurted, "How about he's just trying to be friends with Kasper? There's nothing wrong with creating new friendships."

Engineer nodded. "I tend to concur with DeGroot."

Scout shook his head. "There's gotta be something else."

"Just forget about it, okay?"

* * *

The late morning arrived. Clouds still gathered in the heavens, giving the sun only limited amounts of time to reveal itself from above. Soldier and Kasper stood on a balcony located near the first checkpoint. Kasper revealed a little more about himself. He was twenty-five years old, and he came directly from a rich family in the city of Gothenburg. They accepted him for who he was when he turned fifteen.

Soldier took his time narrating his adventures with Reliable Excavation Demolition. He told Kasper a great deal of conflicts, including the time when his Buff Banner became the sole savior during a Payload confrontation. Kasper paid close attention to every detail that Soldier gave out.

"Your teammates must be real proud of you."

"They should be. Nobody should try to confront an American like me."

"I never thought that such aggressive people would treat you with respect, especially since you are never interested in women."

"Well, that's the thing. They don't know me _completely_."

"So only your Scottish friend knows about the real you?"

"That's right."

"How can you keep a secret for so long?"

"It's never easy. I mean, look at me. I'm forty-seven years old and I still don't have the strength to admit who I really am."

"But why _don't_ you just admit it? I'm sure that most of them will understand that you're still their friend despite some drastic differences."

"You may think that things like this are easy for other people, but it's not."

Soldier told him about his romantic involvement with Florencio, and how it ended in tragedy when the latter had been beaten to death in Lisbon, Portugal.

Kasper asked, "So you believe that the same thing could happen to you?"

"Not necessarily. It's just that...I need to find the right time in telling my teammates the absolute truth."

Kasper smiled. "When you do, you should remember that you should always be yourself."

Soldier sniggered. "_I_ should be the one telling you that. Students don't train teachers."

"Oh, the irony."

Kasper looked at his watch. "I should be going. My job interview starts in a few minutes."

"I hope you do well."

"Thank you."

Kasper put on his black jacket and said, "I'll see you later."

"Knock 'em dead."

Kasper left the balcony and headed for Miss Pauling's office. Soldier stayed still for a few more seconds before he walked the other way. He headed for the Fitness Center to do some bench-pressing, but the sight of a highly amused Scout stopped him from taking further steps.

Scout leaned against a stack of boxes and gave a very puzzled expression when he said, "Now, correct me if I wrong, but did I just hear that you needed to find the right time in telling your friends the truth?"

Soldier took deeper breaths and stood his ground. "How long have you been overhearing our conversation?"

"Oh, long enough to know a little more about ya."

"Go away. This isn't your business."

"How come you never even told us about ya dirty little secret? Is it because you had a little crush on one of us?"

"Stop it, Simon. You don't want to make me angry."

"Why? Are you gonna hit me with your bitch slaps?"

Soldier narrowed his eyes. "I still can't believe you used to kiss your mother with that mouth."

"And I can't believe you used to kiss another man with your own mouth."

"I'm warning you. This could get ugly if you don't keep quiet."

Scout gave a mischievous grin. "Oh, don't worry. I'll keep my mouth shut...for now."

He walked away in silence, leaving Soldier to ponder whether he should threaten the Bostonian even more.

* * *

So far, Soldier didn't hear anything amiss in the next couple of hours. At noon, he visited the cafeteria for lunch. He sat with Heavy, Medic, and Sniper. The entire RED Team gathered in the dining room in just a matter of minutes. Soldier could see Scout conversing with Assassin and Spy as they stood in line at the counter. It didn't look like the Scout was talking about Soldier's sexual orientation, considering both Assassin and Spy had blank expressions on their faces.

Soldier went on to discuss trivial matters with Heavy, Medic, and Sniper. But as soon as they talked about the construction of the new restrooms, Scout sat down alongside Soldier with his tray of food in his hands.

"What's up, fellas?"

Soldier looked down at his food as he said, "We were just talking about the new restrooms that Conaugher wants to build."

"Oh, yeah. I heard all about the hot tubs. It looks like we're going to have our own personal spas. That's gonna be good, right, Troy? We're gonna have our own scented candles. I think I'll choose the 'Hawaiian sea breeze' scent. Are ya rootin' for 'apple cinnamon'?"

Soldier shook his head. "I'm thinking of getting the 'summer traffic' scent."

Sniper took a sip of his water. "I might get that one, too."

It didn't look like Scout wanted to give up. "You know, I think we should get our own phonographs. I could play some Rolling Stones, while Troy could play some Italian Opera."

Soldier began to poke his pork chop with his fork. "I'm not interested in opera."

"Okay, how about Busby Berkeley?"

Soldier tried to change the subject. "Let's talk about baseball. The new season has just arrived thankfully."

Scout replied, "Yeah, just in time for you to drool when the players swing their thick robust bats!"

And that was the last straw.

Soldier threw down his fork. He carried Scout above his shoulders and tossed him onto another table, which disintegrated upon impact. Scout lay on the floor with broken pieces of metal surrounding him. His nose bled and he could barely move. Soldier looked around to see the rest of the RED team observing the carnage with complete bewilderment. He left the dining room without even looking back at the injured Scout.

* * *

Medic and Sniper took Scout into the German's clinic. Medic used his Medi Gun to heal Scout.

As soon as the young man's heath had been fully regenerated, Sniper asked him, "What the hell just happened back there?"

Scout blurted, "It looks like Soldier couldn't take a joke."

"What kind of jokes were they?"

"Oh, just the kind of jokes that center on his lust for guys like us."

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on, guys. Don't you get it? The freakin' Soldier likes men."

Medic was almost shocked. "Is that so?"

"All this time, we've been workin' with a Sissy Mary."

Sniper blurted, "Don't insult Troy like that!"

He began to scratch his head. "I don't know why he wouldn't tell us about it. _I_ would have understood."

That was the exact opposite reaction that Scout expected. "What?"

Medic shook his head. "Men should never keep secrets from their friends."

Scout murmured under his breath, "Oh, this is a real freakin' embarrassment."

* * *

It didn't take long for Demoman to find his friend after the incident back in the cafeteria. Soldier stood on top of the central tower of the Final Spiral. He leaned against the railing and gazed at the distant mountains. Demoman joined him on the tower.

"Aye, just forget about the Scout. He's nothing but a bloody fool."

Soldier kept his eyes on the mountains. "That's not what I'm worried about."

"Then, what is it?"

"I shouldn't have lashed out at him that way."

"Of course, you should have. You're the Soldier. You take crap from nobody."

"You're right. But now everyone knows about me. I'm going to have to find some more ways to defend myself."

"Are you focusing on how this will affect friendships?"

"I never worry about losing friendships."

"That seems a little obvious."

Soldier sighed. "I already learned that I should accept who I am. I'm just a little mad at myself for revealing the truth in a very negative manner."

Demoman laid his hand on his shoulder. "You'll get over it. We all make mistakes. Take me, for example. I still don't know how to play golf."

* * *

Scout returned to the cafeteria to get a little snack. He found Sniper, Femme Fatale, and Bodyguard sitting on a booth on the side of the wall. He joined them as soon as he filled his mug with soda and ice. He could hear them arguing about Soldier's sexual orientation. He interrupted them by saying, "What's there to argue about? He likes men. There's obviously something wrong with that."

Sniper looked aggravated. "Oh, don't start that again, Scout. Just because he's different doesn't automatically mean he's an outsider."

"Hey, it doesn't seem right when you're dating someone that's the exact same sex."

Bodyguard raised a finger. "I tend to agree with this young man. It is like cookies and water. It doesn't mix. It's almost breaks tradition."

Femme Fatale remarked, "There is nothing wrong with breaking tradition."

Sniper adjusted his glasses. "Look, he is still our friend. He hasn't done anything to hurt us...except what he's done to Scout just a few minutes ago. But that's beside the point. We can't isolate ourselves from him. We're still a team after all."

Scout didn't concur. "You might be singing a different tune once the Soldier starts hittin' on ya."

"Try not to insult him next time, will you?"

"I'll stop insulting him, but I won't stop making fun of him."

* * *

Another conversation regarding Soldier originated in the Game Room. Demoman began to play a game of pool with Assassin and Engineer. Engineer kept on mentioning Soldier's true self, so Demoman just had to join in.

"It's not like Troy is going to experience a drastic change just by expressing himself."

Engineer focused on an 8-ball and a 2-ball. "Let's just hope he doesn't have a crush on either Heavy or Outlaw."

Assassin polished her cue tip with chalk. "It could be a good thing, however."

Engineer asked, "How so?"

"Soldier and I could be good friends after this."

"I don't think so. He's not very fond of Hollywood types."

"No, but we could discuss things like musicals and such."

"He doesn't like musicals, either. He once punched the director of a Gilbert & Sullivan production because it didn't have any blood and guts."

"Well, then...he could help me with some clothes."

"He doesn't care about that."

"How about dressing in drag?"

Engineer wanted to laugh, but he didn't. "Is _that_ your idea of a man who likes other men?"

"Not really. I just want to see if I could get better acquainted with this guy."

"Yvonne, he is nothing like what you've just described. I don't know if you know this or not, but men like him aren't exactly equal to what you see in movies and TV. And the fact is, he won't be better friends with you because you've made some pretty terrible movies in Hollywood."

"I guess you're right. But I have to admit, it gets kinda boring around here. I'm kinda sick and tired of talking to Femme Fatale about woman's stuff."

"That's the price you pay for being a mercenary."

Demoman added, "You should remember, Yvonne, that Troy is never interested in girly things. We should know. We've known him for at least a few years. In the end, he's still our friend. We can't just reject him because he's different."

Engineer nodded. "I hear ya, buddy."

* * *

Soldier didn't move as he stayed on top of the central tower. At least half an hour had passed since he talked with Demoman. Now, both Engineer and Sniper arrived to see that Soldier stared at the black-and-white picture of Florencio, his Portuguese lover from long ago. He held it in his hands.

Engineer asked, "Are you feeling fine, Troy?"

Soldier didn't look up. "Yeah, I'm sure I'll be okay."

Sniper took off his hat. "Conaugher and I are not going to hold this against you. Don't think of us as enemies. We support you all the way."

Soldier finally looked up and gave a little smile. "Thanks, guys."

Engineer pointed at the photo. "Who is that?"

"It's someone I used to love about ten years ago. He died in Portugal, so I never saw him again."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Soldier quickly spotted someone walking up the ramp. Both Engineer and Sniper turned around to see Kasper Lindstrom wearing his black jacket.

"Hello, gentlemen."

Engineer and Sniper waved their hands. Soldier replied, "Hello, Kasper."

Sniper put his hat back on. "I think it's time that Conaugher and I leave."

He and Engineer walked away and headed towards the RED Rooms. Soldier and Kasper were now alone on the central tower.

Kasper asked, "Who is that in the picture?"

"Do you remember when I told you about Florencio?"

"Yes, I do."

"This is he. Do you wanna take a look?"

Soldier handed Kasper the photo. The Swede commented, "He looks handsome."

"He sure was. Boy, it still hurts knowing that he died a horrible death."

Kasper handed the photo back to him and said, "I'm sure he was a great man."

"You got that right."

Kasper stared off into the distance as he brushed strands of his blond hair away from his face. Soldier couldn't help but feel so captivated by his appearance.

"So what brings you here?"

Kasper looked back at him and gave a grin. "I've got good news. Miss Pauling has given me the go-ahead. I'm going to work for Mann Co."

Soldier smiled. "That's great. What are you going to do?"

"I'll be doing numerous things. First, I'll be doing some minor paperwork. Later on, I'll possibly become a car mechanic or a culinary artist."

"That sounds exciting."

"It sure is. So what did you and your friends talk about?"

Soldier took a deep breath. "One of my teammates spilled the beans. And now the entire RED Team knows about me."

Kasper suddenly looked concerned. "I hope it's nothing serious."

"Don't worry. I'm over it already. If someone wants to mess with me, I'll give them a little payback."

"That's what I like about you, Mr. Jane Doe. You have the courage to express yourself without anyone getting in the way."

"I'm kinda like you."

"Not exactly. There are plenty of people in Gothenburg who would stop at nothing into insulting me all day and night. Actually, I guess we're equal."

"What are their names? I'll take a plane to Gothenburg and punch the living daylights out of them."

Kasper laughed. "You like to defend those you care about. I like that."

"What makes you think I already care about you?"

"Because I care about _you_."

"You do?"

"That's right, Troy. I like you."

That made Soldier even happier. "Well, I like you, too."

They smiled at each other.

Kasper said, "I'm going to visit my bedroom and organize some things. I'll see you soon."

"I'll see you later, Kasper."

Kasper walked away and left the central tower. Soldier gazed at the photo of Florencio. Now would be the time to put the past behind him and concentrate on what lay ahead in the future. In the far distance, he could hear the echoes of gunfire. Members of the RED team must be playing another game of clay pigeon shooting.

* * *

Scout, Rocketeer, Demoman, Heavy, Engineer, and Sniper had just begun playing a game of clay pigeons on the balcony near the second checkpoint. And it seemed that Engineer had found a way of winning without any difficulty whatsoever. He built a Level 2 Sentry, and sat back and relaxed as the flying saucers were completely obliterated by his creation.

Sniper blurted, "Can't you use your shotgun?"

"Hey, this is much more fun."

Another clay pigeon had been hurled into the air. Heavy tried to use his Shotgun, but the saucer flew backwards and right above the mercenaries. It flew away in the opposite direction, but Soldier caught it with his hands. The others looked straight at him.

He yelled at Engineer, "And you call yourself a pigeon shooter! You ought to be ashamed of yourself. You let your little toys do all the work while you sit on your ass and not giving a crap."

Engineer replied, "It's my job, right?"

"A real man knows how to shoot clay pigeons. He holds his weapon in his _hands_."

Demoman gave a little smile. Soldier didn't change a bit. He was his usual self once again.

Soldier brandished his Shotgun. "Let me show you how to take them down like a pro."

Scout folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah, all you have to do is talk them down with your hissy fits."

Soldier ignored his insult and told Sniper to release another saucer. Sniper pressed the red button, and another flying saucer soared above the trees. Soldier didn't even have to look as he pulled the trigger. The disk exploded in mid-air. Soldier blew on the smoke that rose from the barrel of his gun.

"You all could learn from a guy like me."

Sniper gave a little nod. "I guess we can."

They enjoyed themselves for the rest of the hour with their game of clay pigeon shooting, without mentioning anything about Soldier's true self.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	55. SS - Let's Play Chinese Checkers

SHORT STORY

Let's Play Chinese Checkers

* * *

April, 1969

Solomon Carlyle took his time studying the fifteen photographs that his colleague handed to him. He spent most of his Friday afternoon visiting his longtime friend at his Chicago residence, learning about TF Industries, Mann Co., and the bitter rivalry between the Mann Brothers. Now, he examined the fifteen RED mercenaries whose faces had been imprinted in the Polaroid photographs that lay scattered on the coffee table in front of him. He took a good look at the Administrator's combatants, from the Pyro to the Sniper to the six new recruits that were added just last year. Carlyle seemed impressed with the confidential kingdom that governed a good portion of New Mexico, along with smaller regions all around the western United States.

He took a deep breath and asked his colleague, "How long have you been doing your research?"

At this time, Nathaniel Ingram used a small knife to cut a piece of his Granny Smith apple. "It took me several months to discover even the most hidden details about this place."

"How will this company help with your organization?"

Ingram smiled. "It's perfect. It has all the military equipment I need for the private operations in South America and South Asia."

"It sounds like it's going to be a tough sell."

"Don't worry. I have it all figured out. I've learned so much about the mercenaries that fight each other to no end. Reliable Excavation Demolition is one that I'm looking forward to take away from Helen Walsh. If bribery doesn't work, then I can at least steal them with either blackmail or amnesty. There are certain mercenaries whom I believe will have no trouble receiving these sorts of propositions."

Solomon Carlyle nodded. "So when are you leaving for Mann's Land?"

"Monday morning, I've got the entire weekend to prepare for my little vacation. I might stay down there for a few weeks, maybe a few months, depending on how fast I take over the company. I'll be staying in a lodge with a few of my agents. They're going to help me with all of my future purchases."

"You better be careful, Nathaniel. This looks like a very complicated organization you're dealing with."

Ingram's smile grew a little more devious. "Oh, I already know my way around it."

* * *

On Saturday morning in Thunder Mountain, construction for the new restrooms had finally begun. Engineer anticipated this particular project as much as his RED Rooms. Soldier, Pyro, Outlaw, Demoman, Heavy, Weatherman, and Bodyguard had volunteered to assist him with its foundation. Bodyguard promised to be more cautious, seeing as how he experienced a life-threatening situation back in January.

Scout wanted to help out, but as soon as Rocketeer asked if he wanted to play a game of foosball, Scout couldn't back away from a simple challenge. He and Rocketeer played the first round in the Game Room, where coincidentally, Medic and Spy played a game of their own. Scout could see the German and the Frenchman playing a board game at the poker table. He instantly recognized it as Chinese checkers.

Scout kept his eyes on the foosball table when he asked Medic and Spy, "Why can't you guys play something fun?"

Spy replied, "We are. This is one that helps us relieve ourselves."

"You call _that_ exciting? All you do is move marbles from one place to the next."

Medic chuckled. "But at least it's easy. And seeing as how this originated from my home country, that says so much."

Scout looked away from the foosball table and stopped playing, giving Rocketeer a chance to score. "You don't even know your geography, man. I think the name of the game should give ya a little hint."

Medic replied, "Just because the word 'Chinese' is in the title doesn't mean that it's actually from the actual country. Chinese checkers is actually from Germany. That named it like this because they wanted it to sound more exotic."

"Yeah, whatever, it still looks boring."

Spy asked, "Have you even played this game before?"

"No, but it still looks boring. You don't even have to use a strategy for this game."

"You don't have to. It's all in good fun."

Scout rolled his eyes. "Well, you go ahead and play your little checkers game. Jason and I are too busy playin' a _real_ game."

Spy gave a little grin. "I have a feeling that you'll change your mind someday."

* * *

Miss Pauling could see the RED mercenaries working hard to finish the new restrooms by Monday morning. Construction of this sort would normally take at least a week. But confrontations with Builders League United still had to continue, and Engineer promised to the Administrator that he and his teammates would work extra careful with this one.

With her clipboard in her hands, Miss Pauling watched as Engineer, Soldier, Pyro, Outlaw, Demoman, Heavy, Weatherman, and Bodyguard started work. Heavy and Bodyguard each lifted up a pile of steel beams. Soldier and Demoman used power tools to attach pieces of wood together. Engineer took his time reading the blueprints that he had produced two weeks ago.

Miss Pauling came up to him and said, "I have to give you some credit, Conaugher. You've really proved yourselves with the additional expansion of Mann's Land. You could be an architect someday."

Engineer took off his hardhat. "Thank you for that splendid compliment, Miss Pauling."

She pointed at the blueprint in front of him. "You're not going to install just toilets and sinks, are you?"

"Heck, no. It's much too simplistic for my taste. That's why I ordered a total of five hot tubs and fifteen massage tables. This entire portion of Thunder Mountain could very well turn into a health resort."

"You must have done some very elaborate groundwork for this sort of thing."

"I do what I can to give my teammates the satisfaction they deserve after a hard day's work."

Outlaw joined in on the conversation. "If we can insert a larger restroom, then we can add just about anything here."

Engineer asked, "What are you thinking right now?"

"I believe we can put a horse ranch here."

Miss Pauling didn't feel too confident about that. "Why would you want to put a ranch near Thunder Mountain?"

Engineer added, "Worse yet, why would you even want a horse ranch in the first place?"

"We could have some fun riding horses all around the mountains."

"It ain't gonna work, Miguel. I don't think Mann Co. has the appropriate budget for this kind of work."

Outlaw sounded annoyed when he said, "Oh, but we could put in new washers and dryers in the Laundromat."

"That's what you call a necessity, my friend. Our clothes need to be clean on a weekly basis. Nobody really has the use for a horse ranch."

The three of them could hear Bodyguard laugh. "Do you know what should also be a necessity? Women! What we need is a strip club next to the barracks."

Heavy smiled. "I like idea already."

Soldier frowned. "I don't think that would be such a good idea, Nazir."

Bodyguard gave a sardonic glance. "There would be men as well."

"On second thought, it doesn't sound like a bad idea."

Bodyguard shook his head with amusement as he walked away, continuing to do his job.

Engineer said to Miss Pauling, "If a strip club doesn't work, then I know something else that will. We could install brand new bedrooms. We could have our own apartment in Mann's Land."

Miss Pauling raised a hand. "Don't get too excited about that, Conaugher. We have to check our overall budget first."

"Well, go right ahead. I'll be waiting for the good news."

Engineer went on to help Outlaw with the wet cement. Miss Pauling stayed a little longer to monitor the ongoing construction. She gazed at Soldier and Demoman attaching the steel beams together while Heavy held them in place. In the corner of her eye, she spotted Weatherman using his Sledgehammer to tear down a portion of the original bathroom wall. She noticed his white undershirt, his long-sleeved sweatshirt that he wore around his waist, and his long black hair that seemed to sway in the late morning breeze. Then, she quickly looked away as she didn't want to distract herself for too long.

* * *

Medic and Spy had already left the Game Room once Scout and Rocketeer finished their twentieth round of foosball. Scout had won the game, beating the Rocketeer with a score of 16 to 4.

Rocketeer grunted. "It's a good thing we didn't bet on our next paychecks with this little tournament of ours."

"We should do that next time when I kick your ass _again_."

Rocketeer shot a glance at the Chinese checker board that lay on the poker table. "You say that you never played that game before?"

Scout shook his head. "Never have, and never will."

"You could at least respect it for what it is: a simple board game that even kids can enjoy."

"Have _you_ ever played it?"

"No, I haven't. And I doubt I ever will."

Scout picked up a marble from the board and flicked it up in the air with his fingers. Rocketeer asked, "How do you even play this game, anyway?"

The marble landed in Scout's left palm. "I thought _you_ would know."

"Hey, my parents are from Mongolia. There's a big difference. And besides, didn't Medic say that Chinese checkers originated from Germany?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Scout sat down at the poker table. "I think you're supposed to get all your marbles and put them at the opposite side of the board before your adversary does the exact same thing."

"That sounds simple enough."

"Here, you move 'em like this."

Scout placed the marble at least one spot away from the rest of the bunch. Rocketeer sat down at the opposite side of the poker table and concentrated on a set of different-colored marbles. He moved one toward Scout's marbles. Scout moved another of his own. Rocketeer moved another of his own. They both stared at each other.

"So you think you can beat me?"

"If I can defeat you in foosball, I can do it with this."

In a matter of seconds, Scout and Rocketeer concentrated on moving their marbles toward their intended destination.

* * *

Assassin found her Australian colleague in the TV Room alone. _Lillian Thornburg's Culinary Delights_ had just started, and the host gave tips on how to make a scrumptious carrot cake. Sniper turned his head to see Assassin at the entryway.

"Hello, Yvonne. Did you want to see something else on TV?"

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something."

Sniper lowered the volume with the remote. "Is it serious?"

"It's not overwhelming or anything like that. I want to talk about the Scout."

Sniper turned off the TV as Assassin sat a few feet beside him on the same sofa. She made sure that she lowered the tone of her voice as she asked, "How long have you known the Scout?"

Sniper replied, "For a few years. He's a good man, if you don't mind the snotty pickup lines."

"I already figured that out once I met him for the first time."

"It kinda reminded me of some sort of satire, but I can't remember which one."

Assassin could only shrug her shoulders to that remark. "Anyway, I've been having trouble with something for the past few days now."

Sniper already didn't like the sound of this. "You're not pregnant, are you?"

"Of course, not. It's just that...I'm thinking of ending our relationship."

"Oh, boy. This could turn _real_ ugly. Scout's not used to quick rejections."

"Well, I'm still trying to work things out. I've had second thoughts about him, but I try to come back to him because I still like him."

"Is there a reason why you're feeling this way?"

"I'm not certain, but I think it's because I'm still thinking about someone from back home."

"Who?"

"I don't remember his name, but he used to live in Hollywood."

"Considering that you can't even remember his name, I don't think you should delve deeper into this."

"Oh, but I already have. You see, I liked him a whole lot. And when I left for Mann's Land, I felt like he's going to leave me for someone else."

"Do you know where this man is now?"

"I'm sure he's still living in Southern California somewhere."

"Okay, here's how I see it. I'm almost certain that he's found another girlfriend ever since you joined Mann Co. back in July. It's sad, I know, but it's reality. But Scout is here. He's doing his best to keep you close, and you know it."

Assassin still held mixed feelings, but she said, "I guess you do have a point."

"Of course, I do. You wouldn't want to hurt his feelings, especially since you still believe that someone back in Hollywood would still have feelings for you after a nine-month absence."

"It sounds so sensible when you say it like that."

"Thank you. So are you still having second thoughts?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, that's the spirit."

But deep inside, Assassin still held feelings for the man from Hollywood, and it turned out to be the one who joined the RED team the same day as she did.

* * *

The last thing that Heavy and Pyro expected to see in the Game Room was the Scout and the Rocketeer playing a game of Chinese checkers. The two young men looked completely conscientious as they stared down at the marbles that were scattered all over the board.

Heavy asked, "How long have you played?"

Scout and Rocketeer didn't reply. Both Heavy and Pyro stood closer to see their competition in progress. They could have returned to the construction site, but this simple board game seemed a bit more intriguing as usual. They watched as the Bostonian and the Californian played in silence.

As soon as Assassin entered the room, she asked, "Aren't you guys supposed to be at the construction site?"

The four RED mercenaries didn't answer. She took one look at the checkerboard, and found herself fascinated by the placement of the marbles. She, along with Heavy and Pyro, stood in silence as Scout and Rocketeer moved their marbles from one space to another.

* * *

When he returned to the construction site after his little coffee break, something didn't look right to Engineer. The tools and equipment remained intact, but the builders themselves were missing. He began to scratch his head and wondered where everyone would have gone. He went on to search for his colleagues. He started with the cafeteria, but no one was there. He checked the RED Rooms, and found the rest of the RED Team gathering around in silence in the Game Room. He asked them why they ditched the construction site, but they didn't answer. He stepped closer to see what they all concentrated on. He could see Scout and Rocketeer playing a game of Chinese checkers. The rest of the group circled around the two of them and watched as they moved the little marbles here and there.

Engineer blurted, "What makes this game so damn tense, fellas?!"

Assassin, Outlaw, and Medic shushed him. Scout and Rocketeer continued to compete against each other. Engineer sighed as he left the room.

Meanwhile, Soldier whispered in Outlaw's ear, "I'll bet you your next paycheck that the Scout wins the game."

Outlaw whispered back, "And I truly accept it."

Bodyguard whispered in Rocketeer's ear. "You can do this, Jason. Just don't think too much."

Sniper whispered in Scout's ear. "Don't give up, mate. Do your teammates proud."

Scout looked at his friend with bewilderment. "You guys are gonna punish me if I lose, aren't you?"

"No, we're just betting on your life. That's all."

"Don't fail me now, Jason."

"Be a good boy and help us earn a few more bucks."

"You guys better not piss me off."

Both Scout and Rocketeer looked at each other. They knew what they had to do. At the same time, they proclaimed, "I resign."

The RED spectators groaned in frustration.

Heavy asked, "You resign? Is not impossible."

Scout put the board back in the box. "You guys gave us too much pressure, man. I mean, it's just a game."

Rocketeer added, "You guys make it look like it's something that's straight out of the Olympics."

"Look who's talking," was what Soldier said before he walked away. Everyone else, except Assassin and the two quitters, left the Game Room.

She patted Scout on the shoulder and said, "You did great."

Scout smiled. "Thanks, I do what I can."

Scout and Assassin were about to leave the table, until the young Mongolian-American woman gave her brother a brief glance. Rocketeer took it as a sign of many possibilities. He stayed behind and decided to play a little game of Solitaire. But despite his concentration on the cards, he still couldn't get over Assassin's momentary look.

* * *

The RED team managed to finish the RED Rest Rooms by Monday morning, despite a few drawbacks regarding a board game. Miss Pauling returned to observe the final result. Engineer, Demoman, and Sniper happily gave her the tour.

First, they showed her the toilets and urinals. All of them were separated with stalls. The urinals had motion censors that made them flush automatically whenever the occupant finished his business. The toilets, on the other hand, featured automatic toilet paper dispensers with four separate rolls. There would be no worries whatsoever if one roll had run out all of a sudden. And if all four rolls were empty, the machine would replace them with new ones and throw the empty ones in the recycling center at the back of the room. Engineer demonstrated a special way of cleaning the toilets. Despite its already clean interior, he used a bottle of ketchup to make it all filthy. He smeared the condiment all around the stalls and all around the toilet. He closed the door and showed the little green button on the stall door. He pressed it, and all four of them could hear a sort of rinsing sound from inside.

Engineer explained, "By pressing this little button, you clean the entire stall. There are three cycles: wash, rinse, and dry. It'll take at least thirty seconds to complete the hygienic process."

The noise stopped and Engineer opened the stall door. The entire interior had become spotless once again.

The Texan added, "We have to be sure to use first-rate dishwashing liquid for the wash cycle."

Next up were the sinks. Sniper revealed the racks that would support routine toiletries such as toothbrushes and shaving cream. The racks were labeled with the mercenaries' monikers so that no one would confuse such placements above the sinks. As for the faucets themselves, motion censors had been added to prevent germs when touching the surface. The paper towel dispensers on the walls would be replaced automatically if they ran out almost immediately. The hot air dryers, which had been situated next to the paper towel dispensers as substitutes, were tweaked by the Engineer. The dryers would blow air at a hundred-and-twenty-five miles per hour for a faster drying time. Sniper turned it on and Miss Pauling could see a white trail of fast-moving air. She could also feel its intensity as the loud noise echoed across the room.

When he turned it off, Sniper remarked, "Your hands will be as dry as crocodile skin."

Miss Pauling didn't like the sound of that.

The showers and bathtubs were located in a different room. Demoman gave the presentation to the young woman. Each shower had at least one showerhead attached to all four walls. This way, no one would miss a spot. As for the bathtubs, each of them had a long thin tube that would eject liquid soap if anyone had the urge to give themselves a bubble bath. A mini-fridge filled with soda pop and beer stood next to each tub.

Now, came one of the more exclusive parts of the RED Rest Rooms: the hot tubs. With a total of five, three mercenaries would easily fit in each of them. That is, if either Heavy or Bodyguard weren't around. Warm water would be perfect for the winter. As for the summertime, Engineer installed ice dispensers to further cool down the human body. A beverage bar stood next to the hot tubs. Mercenaries had their choice of alcohol and soda whenever they wanted to calm themselves with the touch of natural spring water.

Engineer raised a finger and said, "You also have your choice of spa treatment. You can use the traditional East Asian array of rocks and candles. You also have your own phonograph, with records that play soothing sounds for relaxation."

Miss Pauling asked, "You mean like ocean waves and forest winds?"

"Well, each to their own taste, I say. Personally, what helps me unwind after a hard day's work are the sounds of traffic on the freeway. I also use sawdust-scented candles."

"That's certainly unique."

Last but not least, Engineer, Demoman, and Sniper revealed the massage center to Miss Pauling. Fifteen portable massage tables had been laid all around the room.

Engineer asked, "Speaking of which, do we have any massage specialists available?"

Miss Pauling shook her head. "I'm afraid we'll have to wait at least two weeks before one is even hired."

"Aw, shucks. We can't just leave this room empty for that long."

"Why not? It's not like this room is going anywhere."

Demoman sighed. "We could have enjoyed the soft hands of a Chinese woman."

"That sounded really dirty coming from you."

"Oh, well. We'll just have to wait until the time comes."

Engineer, Demoman, and Sniper left the RED Rest Rooms, leaving Miss Pauling to ponder the newest addition to Mann's Land. She never expected a group of men with such brutish attitudes to build such an extravagant health resort. She revisited the room with the hot tubs. She halted, since she didn't expect to see Weatherman surveying the same equipment.

He asked, "I'm sorry. Did I scare you?"

Miss Pauling replied, "No, I just thought that you would be at the cafeteria by now."

"I decided to eat later. Right now, I just wanted to see Conaugher's latest creations. It looks like the hard work really paid off yet again."

The thirty-four-year-old Native American man jumped into one of the empty hot tubs with his clothes still on. He didn't turn the tub on, but he did sit quietly.

"Wouldn't you like to try it?"

Miss Pauling took one step back. "I wouldn't want to get carried away."

"I mean, just imagine it."

Miss Pauling didn't hesitate as she joined him in the hot tub. They sat facing each other.

She asked, "Have you ever tried one of these before?"

"Not at all. I couldn't afford one back in the day."

"It looks like this is your lucky day."

Weatherman relaxed even more. "I can just imagine the water flowing inside this tub."

Miss Pauling closed her eyes as she followed his imagery. She envisioned the warm water and the bubbles coming into contact with her skin. She could see the phonograph playing a beautifully tranquil record. And she imagined the Native-American man sitting right beside her.

She opened her eyes and excused herself from the hot tub.

Weatherman appeared a bit concerned. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, I just remembered that I have to meet the Administrator at this time. I'll see you later, Shane."

"Goodbye."

She didn't even look back as she left the room. Weatherman got out of the tub and pondered on what just bothered her at the moment.

* * *

Nathaniel Ingram had just put on his coat and tie in front of his bedroom mirror. He wore one of his finest suits so he could make a good impression to those whom he wanted to meet in Mann Land. Amber, his wife, entered the room and examined the exquisite classiness that dominated his overall appearance.

"I don't know what I would do with you gone for a few months."

Nathaniel turned around and faced his wife. "Don't worry, sweetheart. My complete absence will pay off in the end. This will be the greatest takeover I've ever done."

"Are you sure that Helen's mercenaries will give in to their temptations once you complete your arrangements?"

"They're just pawns, Amber. They're practically waiting for complete submission."

"What happens if the Administrator finds out about your current affair?"

"Let her deal with her anguish as she discovers the higher authority that will one day govern Mann's domain."

Amber smiled. "Go get 'em, honey."

"Thanks for the good luck."

Nathaniel Ingram left his residence a few minutes later. He rode in his personal limousine and headed straight for the airport, where his private jet lay in wait. He anticipated his arrival in New Mexico. He felt unperturbed as he prepared to make his first proposition to the first RED mercenary who he would meet in secret.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	56. SS - Dynamites vs Grenades

SHORT STORY

Dynamites vs. Grenades

* * *

April, 1969

"_Mission begins in ten minutes_!"

The RED Team ran towards the barracks for yet another Payload confrontation in Thunder Mountain. They would start their battles in the First Courtyard, the very first stage in the area. In the barracks, the fifteen mercenaries loaded their arsenal. Outlaw and Demoman, whose lockers stood right next to each other, brandished their melee weapons before they held their primary weapons. As he loaded four grenades in his Grenade Launcher, Demoman couldn't help but notice Outlaw's dynamite.

The Scotsmen asked, "Are you comfortable with your Sticks of Dynamite?"

"Of course, I am. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I'm just wondering why they would hire yet another one who loves to use explosives."

Outlaw raised an eyebrow. "What are you implying?"

"I'm just a little confused why they would hire another one who specializes in explosive goodness."

"There is a difference between a stick of dynamite and a grenade."

"There should be some proof of that."

Medic stepped in with his vintage Medi Gun in his hands. "What is happening here?"

Outlaw replied, "I believe DeGroot has a problem with my ammunition."

Demoman smiled. "Everyone knows that grenades are much more powerful than what you have in your pockets."

"That sounded wrong coming from you. But anyway, all is not lost in my world. Unlike you, I have a pistol."

"My sticky bombs can do bigger damage than that puny thing."

"At least it has good accuracy."

Medic wanted to put a stop to this. "I have an idea. Why don't you create a little competition? Let's see which mercenary has a more efficient and useful arsenal. The one who wins will win their rival's next paycheck."

Demoman sounded pleased when he said, "Aye, we shall see if the grenade is stronger than the dynamite."

Outlaw raised a finger. "But let's make it simple for the both of us. Let's bet at least fifty dollars."

"That sounds fair."

"_Mission begins in sixty seconds_!"

"The bet is on!"

* * *

The RED Team exited the barracks and ran towards the BLU side of Thunder Mountain. The gates were still closed

"_Mission begins in thirty seconds_!"

Demoman launched a few Sticky Bombs on the walls, while Outlaw aimed his Pistol at one of the BLU mercenaries from behind the gate.

"_Five_..._four_..._three_..._two_..._one_!"

The gates opened. Outlaw got two good clean shots of a BLU Bodyguard's head. Demoman activated the Sticky Bombs that made a BLU Scout and a BLU Assassin explode. It appeared to be a tie at the moment.

Later, as the BLU Team led the Payload cart toward the first checkpoint, Miguel lit a Stick of Dynamite and threw it at his enemies. BLU Rocketeer and BLU Sniper were caught in the blast collapsed on the dirt floor. But five other BLU mercenaries, despite their injuries, kept pushing the cart. Demoman released four grenades from his Grenade Launcher, and almost instantly, the five BLU mercenaries exploded. Grenades dealt more damage than Sticks of Dynamite. Score one for Demoman.

BLU Scout ran towards Demoman with the Boston Basher. Demoman tried to use his Grenade Launcher, but BLU Scout's sprinting speed prevented him from getting hit by the incoming projectiles. With rapid speed, BLU Scout swung his Boston Basher and hit Demoman in the shoulder. Just a few seconds later, BLU Scout ran towards Outlaw. Fortunately, the Argentinian man fired three rounds from his Pistol and his enemy landed headfirst on the floor. Demoman didn't have a hit-scan weapon. Score one for Outlaw.

As the Payload cart reached the second checkpoint, Outlaw lit a Molotov cocktail and threw it at the present opponents. Several of them burst into flames. BLU Pyro couldn't save BLU Weatherman in time, but he managed to extinguish the rest of his teammates who were affected by burning alcohol. Outlaw couldn't score another point.

Demoman planted his Sticky Bombs on the ceiling so he could catch his adversaries by surprise. But BLU Heavy destroyed them all with his Minigun. Demoman couldn't score another point.

Just as the BLU mercenaries were on their way to the final checkpoint, Outlaw threw a Stick of Dynamite. But BLU Pyro used his air blast to hurl it back to Outlaw as soon as it exploded. Demoman fired a single round from his Grenade Launcher, and BLU Pyro used his air blast on that projectile as well. It exploded when it landed in front of Demoman's feet. Both Outlaw and Demoman failed to earn a point on that one.

Outlaw later remarked, "I think we should blame the BLU Pyro on that one."

"Of course. He cheats. They always cheat."

* * *

When today's battle ended, everyone returned to the barracks.

"So who won?"

Both Outlaw and Demoman scratched their heads to Medic's question.

Outlaw opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again.

Demoman sighed, "It's a bloody stalemate, lads."

Outlaw shrugged his shoulders. "It's no matter. At least we get to keep our fifty dollars."

Medic added, "You still need to see which one is more efficient, don't you?"

Outlaw raised a hand. "Don't bother, my friend. I don't think we will ever find a winner at this pace."

Demoman grunted. "There will be a winner. Besides, you should learn from an expert like me."

"Oh, sure."

The entire RED Team left the barracks and headed for the RED Rooms for the remainder of the night.

Demoman cracked his knuckles as he said, "I think it's time for me to try the hot tubs."

Outlaw commented, "Make sure you do it out of plain eyesight."

"Aye, you're just jealous that you don't have a strong physique like me."

"And you're just jealous that you don't have an actual girlfriend like me."

Demoman said nothing after that.

Medic shook his head in amusement as both Outlaw and Demoman entered the main entrance to the RED Rooms. Miss Pauling wrote something on her clipboard as she stood in front of the entryway.

She asked Medic, "What was all that about between Miguel and DeGroot?"

Medic replied, "They wanted to see if both dynamite and grenade could co-exist."

"That doesn't sound very interesting."

"It's because they have very similar weapons. I like the Outlaw, but it seems almost strange that he would choose such a familiar arsenal."

"But he's good at it. And I don't think we should play favorites. The Administrator forbids certain preferences."

"I understand."

"But then again, I don't think they should worry about their usefulness. They work well together."

"That is a given, Miss Pauling. Though, I would suggest that you and the Administrator don't hire another mercenary with a rocket launcher or a disguise kit."

"We don't have to. We already have potential candidates."

Medic felt a little surprised. "We're going to have more recruits?"

"It's not absolutely certain, but it's possible that we will have at least three more members in the RED Team by the end of this summer. We've found some interesting applicants."

"Do any of them like to use explosives?"

"No."

"Good, because two are enough for this team."

* * *

About an hour after midnight, the RED Team fell asleep in their bedrooms. Only Medic didn't give in to his exhaustion. He felt wide awake, and he decided to read a book to pass the time. He kept his vest and tie on as he rolled up his sleeves. He picked up a book from his bedroom and took a seat at the poker table in the Game Room. He began to read the first chapter of Mikhail Lermontov's _A Hero of Our Time_. It would have been more comfortable if he turned on a phonograph, but he didn't want to wake his teammates. He flipped a page quietly. The absolute silence in the Game Room brought a more immense reaction towards total tranquility. It was very silent, but perhaps a bit too silent. Medic had a sudden uneasy feeling about it. He closed the book and looked over his shoulders. It didn't surprise that a man in a business suit stood at the entryway. But then, Medic had never seen him before. He wasn't the Spy, nor was he one of the Messengers. Medic stood up from his chair.

"Who are you?"

The man at the entryway took a few steps closer. "I'm just a friend. If you're as smart as I think, I would suggest that you stay calm. I'm not here to hurt anyone."

"Who are you?"

The man in the suit smiled. "My name is Ingram, Nathaniel Ingram. And like I said, I'm just a friend."

"But I have never seen you before."

"Which is why the start of a beautiful friendship will slowly suffice."

Ingram brought out his hand. Medic felt hesitant to shake it.

Ingram whispered, "Don't be a fool, Mr. Wegner. This is not a war. This is an ordinary meeting."

Medic sighed as he shook Ingram's hand.

The German asked, "Who sent you here? The Administrator, or Miss Pauling?'

"I've come here on my own to talk business."

"If you are looking to become a subject for my medical experiments, then you have come to the right place."

"I'm not here to explore your latest creations. I'm here to make you a deal."

Medic raised an eyebrow. "A deal?"

"That's right. But first, I think it's time that we know each other a little more."

"That would be very appropriate."

They sat at the poker table. Ingram picked up a lone chip and began to flip it with his fingers. "Tell me something, Mr. Wegner, how long have you worked for this organization?"

"Oh, I can't remember. Time flies by so quickly when you're fighting for your life."

"You must have had a lot of fun with your arsenal."

"It's not fun. It's a requirement to treat your teammates with the utmost respect they deserve."

"You truly care about the rest of the RED Team."

"Of course, I do. But enough about me, I want to know a little more about you. Tell me, where did you come from?"

Ingram chuckled. "If you really want to know, I'm from Chicago."

"You are not a part of Mann Co., are you?"

"No, I am not."

"That makes me even more suspicious."

Ingram gave a grin. "Don't see me as a threat, Mr. Wegner. See me as the opportunity to bring you fame and fortune."

"Care to explain?"

"My company requires proper military equipment. Not only are we searching for rifles and explosives, but we are also looking for supreme first aid. That is where you come in. I've studied your entire arsenal, from your Quick Fix to your Overdose. I'd like to congratulate you on the successful evolution of your craft."

"Danke."

"This could be your rise to the very top. Think about it, Mr. Wegner. Your arsenal could be considered quite useful to everyone on this planet."

"Are you saying that my weapons should find permanent exposure?"

"That is correct. Your Medi Guns would find phenomenal success. Doctors would easily find a way to treat their patients. Amputees can grow back their missing limbs. Senior citizens can find longer life. All the while, you earn your billions of dollars in a shorter amount of time than expected. Administrator promises fortune, but I promise you fortune _and_ glory."

Ingram revealed a sealed manila envelope and handed it to Medic. "This is all the information you'll need if you are interested in joining my company."

Medic asked, "You mean I'll have to leave Mann Co. to pursue my billions of dollars?"

"There are some sacrifices that'll have to be made."

"I'm starting to have second thoughts, Mr. Ingram."

"And why is that?"

"I've devoted myself to this organization for a few years. This is also where I've met most of my dear friends."

"They don't have to stay here. They can join my company. You see, you won't be the only one that will receive my propositions."

"You're planning on giving similar deals to the other mercenaries?"

"I'll be here for the next few months to see how it all fares."

"Will the Administrator approve of our relocation?"

"Oh, I'm sure she will when she discovers your newly positive attitudes."

Medic slowly rubbed his chin. "I will still need time to think about it."

Ingram didn't budge. "It's understandable. Nobody ever likes to leave their safe haven so quickly. But know this, Mr. Wegner. This is your big chance at fortune and glory. Opportunities such as this are in short supply. You do _not_ want to throw this away."

Ingram stood up from his seat and adjusted his tie. "I'll be seeing you and your friends again. Have a good night."

He left the Game Room without saying another word. Medic could only stare at the manila envelope that he held in his hands. At the moment, the thought of earning his own personal wealth seemed very enticing. However, he kept reflecting on his usefulness in the battlefield. This seemed to be such a dilemma for a crazed German doctor.

* * *

Nathaniel Ingram walked across the hallway with a little smile on his face. He had just met the first RED mercenary, and judging by the look on the German's face, the proposition was fairly easy to complete. Before he exited the building, he caught a glimpse of Miss Pauling standing at the front entrance. He kept on walking, but as soon as he walked right past her, he whispered, "Remember, it's all confidential."

Ingram took a stroll outside, leaving Miss Pauling to keep thinking to herself that this would all pay off in the end.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	57. SS - Green Eggs and Clams

SHORT STORY

Green Eggs and Clams

* * *

May, 1969

On a warm Sunday morning in 2Fort,

As he stuffed his mouth with food on a fork,

Bodyguard had the urge to cook some food,

But as we all know, it's considered punishment in a less fortunate mood.

Quickly in the cafeteria, he produced his dish,

But it was neither chicken nor fish.

He fried some eggs, but ditched the lamb

And replaced it with his steamed clams.

The eggs were green not because of food dye,

But because the expiration date on the carton was a lie.

And so Bodyguard didn't cook any ham,

As he created green eggs and clams.

* * *

He showed his creation to Sniper,

Who started to look like a perturbed pied piper.

Bodyguard asked, "Would you like Green Eggs and Clams?

Would you like them with fried lambs?"

Sniper replied, "I do not want Green Eggs and Clams,

I would rather eat expired spam."

Bodyguard said, "I'd like you to give it to you as a gift, Mr. Mundy.

Since you saved me from that Pyro yesterday, the dish is complimentary."

Sniper shook his head and said,

"I don't want Green Eggs and Clams,

I would rather eat expired spam."

Sniper tried to walk away, but Bodyguard wouldn't let him.

He pointed to the ground and gave a little grin.

"Would you like to eat it here

Or would you like to eat it there?"

Sniper replied, "I wouldn't eat it here or there.

I wouldn't eat it anywhere.

I do not like Green Eggs and Clams.

I would rather eat expired spam."

* * *

Sniper headed for the TV Room to watch a game show,

And Bodyguard just happened to give expectations a new low.

He asked, "Would you eat it with pepper and salt?

"Would you eat it while lying on the asphalt?"

"I would not eat it with pepper and salt!

I wouldn't eat it while lying on the bloody asphalt!"

* * *

Sniper ran into the Game Room and found Soldier and Demoman playing cards.

Bodyguard showed his dish to the two players, and the two fell to the floor real hard.

"Would you eat it with a drunken Scotsman?

"Would you eat it with a crazed American?"

"I would not eat it with a drunken Scotsman!

I would not eat it with a crazed American!"

* * *

Sniper ran outside and found the Spy and the Administrator

Discussing politics and a certain Vaccinator.

Bodyguard showed his dish to the both of them,

And they ran off like expecting mother hens.

"Would you eat it with the boss?

Would you eat it before you floss?"

"I would not, _could not_, eat it with the boss!

I would not, _could not_, eat it before I floss!"

* * *

Sniper used his camper van to leave Mann's Land right away.

He decided to find a new adventure in a little place called Kansas City.

But he didn't expect to see in such a short time,

The Bodyguard in the back of a moving pickup truck (and sorry, that didn't rhyme.).

"Would you eat it in a truck?

Would you eat it with a duck?"

Sniper kept on driving. "I would not eat it in a truck!

I would not eat it with a duck!"

Not with the boss!

Not before I floss!

I would not eat them here or there!

I would not eat them anywhere!

I do not want Green Eggs and Clams!

I would rather eat expired spam!"

* * *

Sniper reached Kansas City on a Tuesday.

Bodyguard found him in a restaurant the next day.

"Would you eat them with buttered scones?

"Would you eat them with the Rolling Stones?"

"I would not, could not, eat them with buttered scones.

I would not, could not, eat them with..._The Rolling Stones_?"

* * *

But no matter, Sniper left Kansas City.

He headed west, and his next adventure you will see.

He hiked up the mountains with glee.

He found himself in Yosemite.

* * *

But the Bodyguard found him again.

"It's inevitable, my dear friend.

Would you eat it on Half Dome?

Would you eat it with friends or alone?"

Sniper almost lost his mind when he said, "Not on Half Dome!

Not with friends or alone!

Not with buttered scones!

Not with The Rolling Stones!

Not with the boss!

Not before I floss!

Not with pepper and salt!

Not lying on the asphalt!

I would not eat them here or there!

I would not eat them anywhere!

I do not want Green Eggs and Clams!

I would rather eat expired spam!

* * *

With a frown on his face, Bodyguard said, "So you do not want Green Eggs and Clams?

Sniper nodded, to which Bodyguard replied, "...But you haven't even tried them yet!"

"Come on, Nazir, you have to stop denying the fact that no one likes your bloody cooking."

"Then, what should I give as a gift whenever someone saves me from another re-spawn?"

"Why don't you try money?"

"As if I would sacrifice my paycheck for friendship."

Sniper sighed,

"I think it's best that you give your dish to some poor animal."

"I suppose you're right."

Bodyguard gave his Green Eggs and Clams to a pack of squirrels,

All of which dropped dead within minutes.

Both Sniper and Bodyguard looked at each other,

And ran off to keep the park rangers off their scent.

They headed back to Mann's Land and waited for the next BLU confrontation.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	58. SS - Little Red Devils

**Note****: Sorry for the lack of updates in the past two weeks. I've been doing a whole lot of other stuff. But don't worry. There are more chapters coming soon, just not as frequent as there were back in February and March.**

* * *

SHORT STORY

Little Red Devils

* * *

May, 1969

On a cool Sunday morning in Gorge, both RED and BLU took the day off. Several members had some games and TV shows in mind. Demoman, however, concentrated on his quest for fame and fortune in Hollywood. On the balcony situated right next to the final capture point, he reviewed the completed screenplay with Rocketeer, Assassin, and Spy. It took Demoman a long while to perfect it, but by the first few days of May, he felt content with what he had written on several pieces of paper. The script was a commercial for the High Five TL 2000 Phonograph. The scenario may appear to require a high budget, but he and his teammates promised that they would use limited resources for this sort of work.

Spy read through the last few pages of the script. "I am impressed, Mr. DeGroot."

Demoman chuckled. "I did tell you I have a good imagination, you know."

"Would the Administrator approve of your filming schedule?"

Rocketeer gave a little grin. "Let me and my sister take care of that. The Hollywood influence is a pretty tough thing to beat."

As Spy read through the last few pages of the screenplay, a huge and irate teammate arrived with an empty plate in his hand.

Rocketeer didn't like the looks of this. "Is there a problem, Heavy?"

Heavy Weapons Guy's narrowed eyes looked rather brutal. "Did you steal sandwich?"

Assassin placed her hands on her hips. "Now why would we do such a thing? We already had our breakfast."

Heavy didn't change his expression when he said, "I want to know who stole sandwich."

Rocketeer replied, "Well, it wasn't us. We're not as hungry as you are."

Demoman stared at the empty plate. "Are there any clues, lad?"

Heavy shook his head. "There are no clues. I put sandwich down on desk. I leave room for only few seconds, and when I come back, it is gone."

"Maybe the Scout ate it."

Spy raised a finger. "The abrupt disappearance could be caused by a rodent, or perhaps a few hungry insects."

Assassin wasn't pleased. "I hate to ask, but what kind of bugs could eat a whole sandwich in just a few seconds?"

"There are a few who can do just that."

* * *

Something interesting had just happened in the cafeteria. Miss Pauling and Engineer joined Leonard the chef in the kitchen. He showed them the empty contents of various potato sacks and pizza boxes.

"The thing is, nobody ordered potatoes or pizza today. I think someone's been stealing food from our kitchen."

Miss Pauling wrote something on her clipboard. "I think I know who did it."

Engineer cleared his throat. "Before you blame the Heavy, there are other possible suspects."

"Like who?"

"Not who, _what_. Judging by the tiny bite marks on the potato sacks, I'd say that we might have a rodent problem...or worse, an ant problem."

"I don't think ants would do this much damage."

"No, but _fire ants_ can eat just about anything they can get a hold of."

Leonard sighed. "I had to deal with fire ants before. They ate an entire jar of pickles. They even drank the juice."

Miss Pauling wasn't completely convinced. "We still can't be sure if insects are the primary cause. We'll need better evidence than this."

That was the cue for the Pyro to arrive in the kitchen and show what he held in his hands. A pile of miniature bones and a skull lay still in both of his palms.

"Mmmhmmhmm-rmmmhmm."

Engineer took a closer look at the pile of bones. "That looks like a squirrel, all right."

Miss Pauling asked, "Did another one stand too close to your flamethrower again?"

"Mmmhmmhmm."

Engineer picked up the skull. "It looks like it's been eaten. Its flesh had been picked clean. I recognize the markings. These bite marks on its skull look like the work of pesky little fire ants. Say, Pyro, where did you find these bones?"

Pyro replied, "Mmhmmhmm-rmmhmmhmmhmmrmm."

"If you found them near the dumpster behind the cafeteria, then that means the damn critters aren't too far away. Maybe they're living in the walls."

Miss Pauling was about to say something, but another arrival of a RED teammate shut everyone up. Medic entered the kitchen with small red marks on his face and his arms.

Leonard rubbed his chin. "Let me guess...you woke up and found a pile of fire ants residing in your bed."

Medic didn't feel like giving even a little snigger. "Oh, no. But you are very close. I wanted to take a relaxing bath in the new rest rooms. Little did I realize that the tub was filled to the brim of all those filthy vermin, gnawing at my legs and then my torso. I tried to escape as the ants bit through my skin. I screamed. I should say that I screamed many, many times. I ran into the toilet stall and used the wash cycle."

Engineer sounded curious when he asked, "You know, the wash cycle in those stalls aren't designed for human contact. How did it feel?"

"I felt...amused when I spun around and around. The water felt very hot, but also exhilarating. Fortunately, the ants drowned and they fell down the drain. When I finished, I returned to the bathtub to see that the rest of those infamous combatants disappeared. They must be traveling through the walls right about now.

Engineer grunted. "These destructive creepy-crawlies just had to invade the new RED Rest Rooms. That's the trouble with fire ants. They always like to conquer private property, feeling no remorse whatsoever for the original owners."

Miss Pauling said, "I'll call the exterminators."

"Not just yet. Let us try to destroy these devilish creatures first."

The young woman giggled. "You? I don't think so."

"Show some more respect, Miss Pauling. We're not just mercenaries. We're caretakers."

"I'd say that you should prove your worth, but I'm afraid you might blow this entire building in half."

"You don't have to worry about that. We blow it up because we _care_."

The phony smile on the Texan's face didn't persuade Miss Pauling very much.

* * *

Nevertheless, she let Engineer and a couple of other RED mercenaries check to see if the fire ants still resided in the RED side of Gorge. Engineer, Demoman, and Rocketeer inspected the walls for cracks. As they examined the Laundromat, they used magnifying glasses and flashlights for a clearer view of the place.

As he checked behind one of the dryers, Rocketeer asked, "So how exactly are we gonna eliminate these pests?"

Engineer replied, "We might have to use some flamethrowers or some gasoline to fix this little problem of ours. You know what they say: fight fire with fire."

"Yeah, but I think it'd be better to let the exterminators finish the job."

"It ain't a good idea, son."

"What makes you think so?"

"They make it too easy. There are other, more exciting ways of defeating your smallest enemies."

Rocketeer walked away from the dryer as he said, "I'm guessing bullets and bombs are part of the repertoire."

Engineer gave a devious grin. "You're learning real fast, boy. I like that."

It took the three of them an entire hour to find a single crack on the concrete wall. They found one on the second floor of one of the Main Rooms. The crack was located at the bottom. Engineer used his magnifying glass to inspect the holes that could possibly lead to a concrete ant hill.

Demoman asked, "Do you see anything?"

Engineer replied, "No, not yet. It looks deep, however. The ants must be crawling on the other side of this wall."

Rocketeer placed his ear against the wall for a brief moment. "Do you think the queen is inside?"

"I hope so, because she's going to have a very hard time laying more eggs once we poison her and her minions."

Something caught Demoman's eye. "We should hurry, lads. We don't want to end up like the man who's running towards us, screaming!"

Engineer and Rocketeer quickly glanced at the Scotsman's direction. The Heavy was in pain as he ran right past his teammates, grabbing both of his buttocks.

He screamed, "Ants in pants! Ants in pants! Doctor!"

Engineer, Demoman, and Rocketeer could only stare in disbelief as the Heavy disappeared in another hallway, his rampant voice still echoing all around the room.

Engineer put away his magnifying glass. "We better hurry."

* * *

At mid day, the entire RED team gathered at the bridge where the first capture point was located. The bite marks on Medic's skin disappeared, thanks to his Medi Gun. The pain in Heavy's legs went away. But the fight had just begun.

Soldier announced to his teammates, "Ladies and gentlemen, these little combatants mean serious business. They'll eat everything in the cafeteria, not to mention evade our privacy, if we don't strike back first."

Outlaw asked, "What shall we do?"

"Engineer has told me that he has the essential equipment to provide permanent extinction of this blasphemous colony."

Scout raised his hand. "Shouldn't we just let Miss Pauling call the exterminators?"

Engineer shook his head. "This ant colony is a vicious one. It would probably take a few days to sort them all out. We, on the other hand, can do it in just two hours."

Sniper whispered in Spy's ear, "This should be interesting."

Weatherman asked, "How exactly are we going to retake the building?"

Engineer replied, "There are various ways. We'll have to see if they're actually effective first."

Femme Fatale didn't like the sound of this. "I would rather trust the exterminators on this one."

"At least you're being honest. Now, who would like to volunteer?"

Everyone stood in silence. Soldier had to say something. "It looks like I'm the only one who will risk his life to save our property. Count me in, Engie."

Engineer nodded in approval. "Now let's not worry too much, fellas. This will be over soon."

* * *

Engineer and Soldier created ant bait by injecting cyanide in a full piece of French bread. They carefully placed it on the floor of the Main Room and hid behind a stack of barrels. They waited for the ants to eat through the French bread and poison themselves with a fatal dose. A few minutes later, someone did come and eat the French bread, but it wasn't the ants. The Heavy just picked it up and began to eat a few pieces of it. Soldier and Engineer yelled at him and warned him about the cyanide, but the Russian immediately fell to the floor lifeless. Luckily, Heavy returned from the re-spawn area. Soldier and Engineer concluded that ant bait would constantly be mistaken for free food. So they tried another method.

They brought in numerous Pitcher Plants living in flowerpots and placed them near the cracked concrete on the second floor. As carnivorous plants, the Pitcher Plants would drown their victims and dissolve them with their own enzymes. Soldier and Engineer left the room. When they returned to observe the progress, they discovered that the plants had been destroyed. The leaves and stems had bite marks all around.

Engineer took off his hardhat. "Boy, these bugs sure are powerful."

Soldier narrowed his eyes. "If it's war they want, then it's war they'll get."

"Hold your horses, Troy. I've got other ideas."

Later, the two of them placed pieces of what looked like flypaper on the floor.

Soldier remarked, "You _do_ know that we're trying to kill _ants_, right?"

Engineer raised a hand. "Relax, buddy. This flypaper is specifically designed to catch and kill just that. I made it myself a few years ago."

"If it works, I'll buy you a beer."

"But we have a snack bar."

"Never mind, then."

Engineer and Soldier finished placing flypaper on the floor of the Main Room. They left the room and headed for the RED Rooms.

Soldier asked, "How long do you think it'll take for the ants to make their fatal mistakes?"

"It could take at least another hour."

At that exact moment, they began to hear loud paper rustling, followed by a woman's scream. Soldier and Engineer ran back into the Main Room and found Assassin lying on the floor, wrapped from head to toe in flypaper. Assassin tried to break free from the glue, but failed. She tried to say something, but the paper attached to her lips prevented her from saying at least one word.

Soldier folded his arms across his chest. "...Women."

The two mercenaries tried yet another tactic. They unleashed a dozen anteaters in the entire building. A few minutes later, however, the anteaters were nowhere to be seen. Soldier and Engineer searched for them in every possible room without success. Finally, Pyro led them into the Game Room, where the anteaters were found...just not in their original forms. The mammals had become nothing more than a pile of bones.

Engineer rubbed the side of his neck. "This is worse than I thought."

Several minutes passed. Engineer brought an ordinary vacuum cleaner and tweaked it for a specific purpose. Miss Pauling, Soldier, Outlaw, and Spy watched as he installed a metal tube inside the vacuum cleaner and gave them a demonstration. He switched it on, and all of a sudden, his companions were swept off their feet. Miss Pauling, Soldier, Outlaw, and Spy held on to a railing for dear life as air was sucked quite aggressively into Engineer's newly designed vacuum cleaner.

Miss Pauling shouted, "Turn it off! Turn it off!"

Engineer flicked the switch just in time. Later on, he ditched the vacuum cleaner as he felt it would be too dangerous for his teammates.

He decided to drown the ants with water. He brought a water hose and stuck it inside the crack on the wall. But as water entered the wall, the crack grew larger and water spilled out into the floor. Engineer didn't stop. He continued to blast water into the wall. It didn't have the effect that was intended. The water began spilling into different rooms, such as the Game Room. And before everyone knew it, their bedrooms became victims as well. The rooms were now flooded with thousands of gallons of water. The mercenaries' possessions started to flow out of their bedrooms and into the hallways. Scout, Sniper, Spy, and the others tried to recollect their belongings in knee-deep water.

Scout picked up a magazine that featured a half-naked man on the cover. He showed it to Assassin and asked, "Is this what you've been hiding from me?!"

Assassin replied, "That's not mine."

Scout turned around to see Soldier with a blank expression. He grabbed the magazine from Scout's hands with quick speed and walked away in silence. Scout closed his eyes and gave himself the shivers.

When Outlaw and Sniper checked on Engineer, they found that he still didn't turn off the hose.

Sniper couldn't take it any longer. "Just shut it off, Conaugher! This approach is not working."

Engineer didn't budge. "The entire colony should be wiped out right about now."

"But I read somewhere that fire ants can build a life raft by using their own bodies."

"That's just folklore, Mundy. Don't worry. We should be able to retake Mann Co. in just a few more minutes."

Rocketeer arrived and said, "Good news. The ants are no longer inside the wall."

Outlaw asked, "Do you also have some bad news?"

"I'm afraid I do. They've relocated into the RED Rest Rooms, the only place where the floors aren't flooded. They're relaxing in the urinals right now."

Outlaw turned to Engineer and said, "You can turn off the hose now."

Engineer whispered to himself, "Aw, shucks."

Engineer put away the hose, but he still didn't want to give up the fight. He didn't want to have the exterminators finish the job. Once he found Soldier and Weatherman discussing trivial matters on the Bridge, he told them to evacuate.

Weatherman felt even more curious than before. "What are you going to do this time? Expose the colony to radiation?"

Engineer replied, "I wish it were that easy. But luckily, there are other ways of taking care of this little problem of ours. I'm going to use a bit of toxic gas against the red devils."

Soldier smiled. "I like this one already."

Weatherman asked, "How effective is this gas?"

Engineer rubbed his hands together. "Let's just say that everyone is gonna have to leave the building."

* * *

With the sole exception of Engineer, the entire RED Team gathered once again on the bridge. They could only watch as Engineer entered the main building with a gas mask on.

As he leaned against the railing, Sniper said, "Maybe I should have brought some reading material for this."

Scout sighed, "This is a real freakin' embarrassment. This guy doesn't want to call the exterminators, and we're left with a broken home."

Spy lit a cigarette. "It could be worse. We could be left with a broken _planet_."

Scout sat down on the floor. Assassin sat down beside him and asked, "What should we do for the next two hours?"

Scout shrugged his shoulders. "We could play _Pin the Tail on the Rocketeer_."

Rocketeer sarcastically replied, "Yes, that would definitely be the finest moment for Reliable Excavation & Demolition."

All of a sudden, clouds of green-colored smoke exited the open windows and passageways in a slow manner.

Femme Fatale looked away. "Let us hope that he does not accidentally take his own life."

In just a few minutes, Engineer reappeared at the Bridge. He took off his gas mask and held a blank stare.

Scout couldn't wait for an answer. "So are they dead or not?"

Engineer cleared his throat. "They're not exactly dead."

Outlaw sounded aggravated. "What do you mean 'not exactly'?"

"Well, the toxic gas that I've been using gave the queen a little side effect. So now she isn't giving birth to workers. She's giving birth to more queens. And as a result, we're starting to see a dramatic increase in the ant population."

Sniper asked, "You mean we now have thousands and thousands more of these little buggers?"

"That's the gist of it, Mundy."

Rocketeer groaned as he said, "We should just let Miss Pauling call the exterminators."

Engineer blurted, "This fight ain't over, fellas! We still have plenty of resources."

Weatherman grunted. "Let's face it, Conaugher. We only have one enemy: Builders League United. We shouldn't risk our lives for a colony that does nothing but eat and sleep."

"Go ahead. You take the cowardly way out. I still have my dignity."

"But do you still have your sanity?"

Engineer ignored that little remark.

* * *

While still temporarily residing on the Bridge, members of the RED Team handed each other canned goods for dinner. Engineer, Soldier, and Pyro were not present at this time. They were still in the building, using a flamethrower to kill off any unsuspecting ants. The other RED mercenaries could hear the bursts of igniting flames at different times of the late afternoon.

As he ate some sliced peaches from an opened can, Demoman uttered, "I miss eating pork and veal."

Bodyguard snorted. "I miss _cooking_ pork and veal."

Rocketeer began to open a can of creamed corn. "It's been three hours. Shouldn't the guys be finished by now?"

Spy put on his coat for the incoming evening. "You forget that we're dealing with madmen."

Suddenly, they could hear a scream coming from the Main Hallway.

"My feet! My feet are on fire!"

Engineer ran out of the building, screaming. His boots had erupted in fire and smoke. Pyro chased after him with his flamethrower.

"Mmhmm!"

Engineer and Pyro ran straight into BLU's spawn area.

Rocketeer couldn't help but say, "At least he didn't have a snake in his boots."

The other mercenaries gave him irritated glances, probably because of the lame joke, but he ignored them.

* * *

The fight continued, even as evening approached. The crescent moon rose above the distant mountains and joined the stars to shed some light on the alpine kingdom. It was a beautiful evening, indeed.

The RED Team made arrangements for lanterns, flashlights, and sleeping bags. A few decided to sleep under the Bridge, namely Scout and Assassin and Rocketeer.

Miss Pauling paid the mercenaries another visit. She watched as they took their time adjusting to their new sleeping arrangements. She commented, "I would call the exterminators, but I don't think I should disappoint the Engineer, who I believe is now in a vulnerable state."

Sniper tucked himself in his sleeping bag. "I'll just be glad when we're back in our original bedrooms."

Outlaw sighed. "All this because of an ant colony. We can be incredibly unlucky at times."

Bodyguard sat up and murmured, "I can see it now. Conaugher and Mr. Jane Doe are about to set off an entire box of dynamite."

"Please, you're making me feel uncomfortable."

Miss Pauling readjusted her glasses. "I'll come again and check to see if there's any sort of progress."

Medic saluted her in a mocking way. "Good luck."

Just as she left the bridge, she caught a glimpse of Weatherman staring at her before going to bed. She did nothing about it. Usually, it would bother her that at least one mercenary would give her a seductive look. But the RED mercenaries didn't stare at her anymore, all except one. Weatherman continued to give her brief glances while on the job. And she didn't even mind. As the glances became more frequent, she felt a bit more exhilarated about the presence of a Native-American man with brown skin and long black hair. She had a feeling where this would lead to, and all she could do now was wonder when it would happen.

* * *

"I should have asked you this sooner, but are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Even Soldier questioned Engineer's ability as an exterminator. The Texan activated several C4 explosives and attached them to the walls of the now-empty Cafeteria.

"Trust me, Troy. This will do them justice."

"Maybe we should've used our own C4 instead of stealing some from Miguel."

"Just be quiet, will ya? I'm trying to concentrate here."

Soldier sighed. "I sense a bit of hostility here."

Engineer blurted, "Of course, you do! I'm feeling a little hostile because you won't shut up."

"Maybe it's time we let Miss Pauling call the exterminators."

"So you're quittin', too?"

"I'd rather eat some dinner than waste my time with C4."

"Fine, go out and eat. And be sure to brush your teeth when you're makin' love with that damn Swede you like so much."

Soldier narrowed his eyes. "Don't make me pull your eyes out of their sockets."

Engineer felt immediate guilt. "All right, I'm sorry. Look, I'm just a little desperate in killing these bothersome creatures."

"Well, you go ahead and do it yourself. I'm gonna go eat some canned tuna. I feel a little weak whenever I overlook my daily dose of mercury."

Soldier left the room, leaving Engineer alone with his C4. But Engineer didn't detonate it. He felt that it would be too risky, even for Mann Co.'s standards. Instead, he tried to figure out other ways to destroy the walls.

* * *

Back outside and right under the Bridge, Scout, Rocketeer, and Assassin readied themselves for bed. Both Rocketeer and Assassin still felt wide awake. Scout, on the other hand, lay on his side and closed his eyes for the remainder of the evening. He looked comfortable in his sleeping bag. And luckily, he didn't snore very much.

Rocketeer sat against one of the concrete arches. Assassin sat down beside him. Both of them stared at the sleeping Scout.

Rocketeer whispered, "I have to admit, at least he isn't drooling. Can you imagine the two of us drowning in a river of saliva?"

Assassin gave a little smile. "That sure makes up for that little snake joke you made earlier."

Rocketeer raised an eyebrow. "That one wasn't funny to you?"

"It was...a little."

Assassin stared at Scout, and then back at her brother. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"If we ever go back home in Hollywood, are you going to find yourself another girlfriend?"

"I might. Being a rich celebrity in Southern California has its big upsides."

"You're right, but I might feel a little lonely if you do that."

"Why would you feel lonely? You've got the Scout."

"I'm having second thoughts."

Rocketeer was silent for a brief moment before he stared closely into Assassin's eyes. "...And exactly why would you want to break up with him?"

"I don't want you to have another girlfriend."

Rocketeer stood up and looked down at his sister. He kept his voice low so as he uttered, "I was afraid this would happen."

Assassin replied, "Jason, listen to me. No one has to know. We can keep it all to ourselves."

"Listen to yourself, Yvonne. This isn't right. We'd be doing our parents a disservice if we continue on like this."

"None of that matters to me."

"I don't think you understand the context of our situation."

"Oh, I do. And I wish I can stay close to you again."

Rocketeer gave a deep breath. "You can count that wish goodbye, because it's not going to happen ever again."

"Are you even certain of that?"

"What do you mean?"

"You think you're over it, but deep inside, you know that this won't go away."

Rocketeer shook his head. "That may be, but at least I know what's right."

"Do you?"

Rocketeer gave the sleeping Scout a brief glance. "I'm starting to wonder why we were together alone one that one night."

Assassin replied, "Because we can't stop loving each other."

Rocketeer closed his eyes for a few seconds. "I'm going to sleep _on_ the Bridge. Goodnight, Yvonne."

He took his sleeping bag and left Assassin alone with Scout. Now, she felt more wide awake than before.

* * *

Femme Fatale opened her eyes and looked up at the sky. The crescent moon indicated that the rising sun wouldn't formulate its arrival anytime soon. She glanced at Sniper's alarm clock. It was still two-thirty in the morning. The other RED mercenaries lay peacefully in their sleeping bags. But Engineer was nowhere to be found. This could only mean that the Texan still tried to take care of those pesky insects from inside the main structure. Femme Fatale got up from her sleeping bag.

"Where are you going?"

She turned around to see Outlaw rubbing his eye. She replied, "I am going to see if Engineer is still alive."

Outlaw whispered, "Of course, he's still alive. He relies on respawn just like the rest of us."

"But I am worried. He may take things too far. I am going inside to see if he is healthy."

"I wouldn't want you to do it alone. I will follow."

They walked away from the Bridge and headed for the interior of RED territory.

They found Engineer near the final Control Point. He used his power tools to construct what looked like a custom-built Sentry.

Outlaw asked, "Aren't you ever going to sleep?"

Engineer turned off his blowtorch and took off his goggles. "I will, as soon as I get the job done."

"I think it's time that you surrender, Conaugher. Let the exterminators sort it out."

"Not quite yet, Miguel. I think I got this. By building a Level 4 Sentry, I will be able to take care of real business."

Outlaw leaned in and whispered in Engineer's ear, "Give up, my friend."

After a few seconds of silence, Engineer sighed and put his blowtorch down on the floor. "What's the use? I was never good at killing ants, anyway."

Femme Fatale asked, "But you did try, did you not?"

"I did, but I failed to accomplish what I've never done in the past."

Outlaw muttered, "No one is perfect. Some people can do things that others cannot."

Engineer began to deconstruct his new Sentry. "I know that, but it's not that easy to accept failure like this."

"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself, Conaugher. Life isn't always about being perfect."

"Well, you don't know what I've gone through in the past."

"I hate to ask, but what happened?"

"Ah, it's kinda boring. You wouldn't want to know about it."

Femme Fatale laid a hand on Engineer's shoulder and said, "Yes, we do. We care about you."

Engineer sighed and leaned against the wall. Outlaw and Femme Fatale stood a few feet away as the Texan said, "I always try to do my best because failure was never an option in the first place. My father always told me that if I gave in and surrendered, it would be unacceptable. It would be a disgrace to human nature. When I was a boy, he would berate me for making a mistake. He would take away my dinner if I didn't finish rebuilding my own bicycle."

Outlaw scratched his head. "He must have been a cruel parent."

"No, not exactly. I always admired him. He taught me that life wouldn't be complete without perseverance. Quitters are considered traitors."

"But it isn't always like that in reality."

"Yes, I know. I knew that ever since I became a teenager."

"So what do you continue to scorn yourself for such trivial failures?"

"I guess I've been trying hard to be like my father. He was always my idol."

"But you're not like him. Everyone is different in this world."

"You know what they always say: '_Imitation is the best form of flattery_'."

Femme Fatale remarked, "Some might argue against that."

Engineer glanced at his deconstructed Sentry. "I sometimes think that maybe my own father would understand what you're saying."

Outlaw replied, "He may curse you for giving up on this project, but I am certain that he would be pleased by your other successes, such as the RED Rooms and the Laundromat."

Engineer gave a half smile. "He would, wouldn't he?"

Femme Fatale added, "Perhaps it is time to call the exterminators."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. But I wonder if Miss Pauling is awake at this time."

"Of course, I am."

Engineer, Outlaw, and Femme Fatale turned their heads to see Miss Pauling and three men in purple-colored jumpsuits with toolboxes standing behind her.

She announced, "These are the exterminators. They'll be finished in a few minutes."

Engineer asked, "And how exactly are they gonna kill these fire ants in such a short time?"

"Let them demonstrate."

The three men in jumpsuits hurried themselves up onto the Second Floor. Miss Pauling and the three RED mercenaries could hear brief seconds of drilling and scattered thumping. In just a few seconds, the three men in jumpsuits reunited with the others at the final Control Point.

One of them said, "We've killed the entire colony, though we had a bit of trouble with the two dozen queens that hid themselves in the ceiling."

Miss Pauling smiled. "Good job, gentlemen. You'll be receiving a pay raise."

"Thank you, Miss Pauling."

And with that, the young woman and the men in jumpsuits left the room, leaving Engineer and Outlaw and Femme Fatale alone.

Outlaw glanced at Engineer and said, "You'll get over it."

Engineer put his goggles back on. "I sure hope I will."

* * *

Nathaniel Ingram gazed out the window. The rising sun gave a clearer view of the measureless desert wasteland of New Mexico. Ingram sat alone in the dining room of a restaurant and waited for the arrival of a significant entrepreneur. He wore one of his finest suits so he could build a good impression on a possible business partner for the near future. Ingram stayed in the city of Santa Fe for a few days, and he already grew accustomed to such a laidback community. His metropolitan paradise in Chicago seemed almost pretentious when compared to the tranquil territories of the Southwest. For a few more minutes, he waited for his meeting to begin. Finally, he could see the arrival of his client at the front entrance, standing next to Walter F. Browne, his secret agent. Ingram raised his hand, and his client spotted him right away.

Ingram stood up from his seat as soon as his client and his agent reached the table.

"I hope you were able to find this place as accessible as I have."

Rolf Marcussen replied, "The trip didn't bother me much, thought I do want to know why I am here."

"I'm glad you asked."

Ingram and Marcussen sat down facing each other. Browne sat at a different table just a few feet away.

Ingram uttered, "I ordered some breakfast for the both of us. Do you like eggs and bacon with your pancakes?"

"That will be fine. So tell me, Mr. Ingram, why am I here?"

Ingram could see that Marcussen held a bit of a strained look on his face. The Chicagoan smiled as he said, "I've met your ex-wife several times this year."

That certainly caught his attention, but Marcussen kept his composure. "She never told me about this."

"Don't worry, Mr. Marcussen. I'm not dating her. She's become an assistant of mine."

"Care to explain?"

Two waitresses brought plates of hot food on the table. Just as they left, Ingram took a sip of orange juice before saying, "I own a major corporation. I won't go into much detail, but it deals with very important material. Private operations are in progress in various foreign countries. There are specific requirements for these types of developments, including what you and your own organization specializes."

Rolf Marcussen, who stared at his water glass, looked up with a curious glance. "Has Miss Pauling told you everything about our company?"

"Not quite. I did my research on my own. I know that you specialize in human relations."

"What does my organization have to do with your own?"

Ingram started to eat his eggs and bacon with his fork. "I need test subjects for our private operations. I think you may have the right resources for our line of work."

Marcussen now appeared intrigued. "Who are you looking for?"

"We require those who can't exactly think for themselves, or those who aren't brave enough to inform the authorities. We especially admire those who easily risk their lives. You see, my corporation is about to uncover a serum from underneath the earth that can enhance militaristic abilities. In short, this substance can make our military much powerful than before."

"Is this approved by the government?"

"Of course, not. They don't want to deal with this sort of thing. I can say that the pinheads in Washington rely on cowardice."

"I wouldn't think so. The war in Vietnam doesn't give any official evidence of surrender."

"Still, they shouldn't interfere with such a potent discovery."

Marcussen finally picked up his fork. "What shall I receive if I do give you some of my 'employees'?"

"The top priority here is money, lots and lots of money. This project is worth half a billion dollars. We will be able to share the earnings as soon as the serum is perfected."

"And how long will that take, might I ask?"

"It will be a long wait, but it will be worth it. What do you say?"

Marcussen rubbed his chin. "If we become business partners, then I would like to know more about your organization."

"It's good that you say that, because I think you also need to know a little more about Mann Co."

TO BE CONTINUED...


	59. SS - Sausage and Pepperoni

SHORT STORY

Sausage and Pepperoni

* * *

June, 1969

Saturday morning in Mann Co. would prove to become a bit of a problem. Maintenance in the cafeteria was scheduled all evening, so the RED mercenaries and other workers wouldn't be able to fulfill their cravings during dinnertime. But they didn't surrender at all. Miss Pauling decided to call a pizza parlor, which was situated a few miles away from 2fort. She and the rest of the crew knew this restaurant very well. Miss Pauling picked up the phone in her office and dialed the number. She waited until one of the employees picked up the phone.

"_Hello, Alfredo's Fantastic Pizza. This is Harold speaking. How can I help you_?"

"Hello, Harold. It's me, Miss Pauling."

"_Hello, Miss Pauling. I haven't heard from you in a long while_."

"Yes, I'm sorry about that. We just built a new cafeteria last year, so we couldn't really order in anymore."

"_We really missed you guys. We haven't been making much ever since you stop calling_."

"Well, I'm here to bring some good news. Our cafeteria is undergoing a few repairs, so now is the time to ask for delivery."

Harold sounded so pleased when he said, "_Oh, good. We're gonna have such a good time with our bonuses pretty soon. So what would you like_?"

Miss Pauling cleared her throat when she said, "Okay, this is for the mercenaries, the custodians, the chefs, the Administrator, and me. We'd like to order two large pizzas with mushrooms and sausage and extra cheese, two large pizzas with anchovies and black olives, three medium pizzas with pepperoni and bell peppers and extra cheese, two large pizzas with Canadian bacon and pineapple, five medium pizzas with black olives and mushrooms and sausage and garlic, two large pizzas with salmon and jalapeno peppers, two large pizzas with spinach and salami and walnuts and zucchini and Gouda cheese, two large pizzas with ham and Cajun chicken, four large pizzas with calamari and avocado, two medium pizzas with venison and bacon and chicken and turkey, and ten large pizzas with pistachios and shrimps and scallops and black beans and eggplants and Limburger cheese."

"_Okay, so I have two large pizzas with mushrooms and sausage and extra cheese, two large pizzas with anchovies and black olives, three medium pizzas with pepperoni and bell peppers and extra cheese, two large pizzas with Canadian bacon and pineapple, five medium pizzas with black olives and mushrooms and sausage and garlic, two large pizzas with salmon and jalapeno peppers, two large pizzas with spinach and salami and walnuts and zucchini and goat cheese, two large pizzas with ham and Cajun chicken, four large pizzas with calamari and avocado, two medium pizzas with venison and bacon and lamb and turkey, and ten large pizzas with pistachios and shrimps and scallops and black beans and eggplants and Limburger cheese_."

"I should make a correction. That should be two large pizzas with spinach and salami and walnuts and zucchini and Gouda cheese, not spinach with salami and walnuts and zucchini and goat cheese. Also, it should be two medium pizzas with venison and bacon and chicken and turkey, not venison and bacon and lamb and turkey."

"_Okay, so it's two large pizzas with spinach and salami and walnuts and zucchini and_ Gouda_ cheese, and two medium pizzas with venison and bacon and _chicken_ and turkey_."

"Yes, that is correct."

"_I see...oh, I just found out. We've run out of black beans and Canadian bacon. Would you like something else with that_?"

"Hmm...Okay, make that two large pizzas with _turkey_ and pineapple, and ten large pizzas with pistachios and shrimps and scallops and _almonds_ and eggplants and Limburger cheese."

"_Got it. Would the employees like anything to drink_?"

"Yes, we would like thirty-six bottles of beer and fifty bottles of Silver Dollar Cola."

"_The glass bottles come in two sizes: medium and large_."

"Okay, give me eighteen medium and eighteen large bottles of beer, and twenty-five medium and twenty-five large bottles of soda."

"_Now let me see if I have this correctly: two large pizzas with mushrooms and sausage and extra cheese, two large pizzas with anchovies and black olives, three medium pizzas with pepperoni and bell peppers and extra cheese, two large pizzas with turkey and pineapple, five medium pizzas with black olives and mushrooms and sausage and garlic, two large pizzas with salmon and jalapeno peppers, two large pizzas with spinach and salami and walnuts and zucchini and Gouda cheese, two large pizzas with ham and Cajun chicken, four large pizzas with calamari and avocado, two medium pizzas with venison and bacon and chicken and turkey, and ten large pizzas with pistachios and shrimps and scallops and almonds and eggplants and Limburger cheese. There are also eighteen medium and eighteen large bottles of beer, and twenty-five medium and twenty-five large bottles of soda._"

"You got it, Harold."

"_That will be two-hundred-and-seventy-six dollars and forty-five cents_."

"The Administrator will send you a check in the mail."

"_Well, I hope it arrives sooner that I expect_."

Miss Pauling could hear Harold talk to one of his co-workers. "_We've got a special order here, fellas. I need you all to make two large pizzas with mushrooms and sausage and extra cheese, two large pizzas with anchovies and black olives, three medium pizzas with pepperoni and bell peppers and extra cheese, two large pizzas with turkey and pineapple, five medium pizzas with black olives and mushrooms and sausage and garlic, two large pizzas with salmon and jalapeno peppers, two large pizzas with spinach and salami and walnuts and zucchini and Gouda cheese, two large pizzas with ham and Cajun chicken, four large pizzas with calamari and avocado, two medium pizzas with venison and bacon and chicken and turkey, and ten large pizzas with pistachios and shrimps and scallops and almonds and eggplants and Limburger cheese. We also need eighteen medium and eighteen large bottles of beer, and twenty-five medium and twenty-five large bottles of soda._"

Miss Pauling heard a co-worker ask, "_How can we make_ _two large pizzas with mushrooms and sausage and extra cheese, two large pizzas with anchovies and black olives, three medium pizzas with pepperoni and bell peppers and extra cheese, two large pizzas with turkey and pineapple, five medium pizzas with black olives and mushrooms and sausage and garlic, two large pizzas with salmon and jalapeno peppers, two large pizzas with spinach and salami and walnuts and zucchini and Gouda cheese, two large pizzas with ham and Cajun chicken, four large pizzas with calamari and avocado, two medium pizzas with venison and bacon and chicken and turkey, and ten large pizzas with pistachios and shrimps and scallops and almonds and eggplants and Limburger cheese? We can't get the oven working._"

Harold said to Miss Pauling, "_I seem to have forgotten one tiny detail. Our kitchen is undergoing our own maintenance as well. Sorry about that._"

That surprised Miss Pauling very much. "You mean you won't be able to cooking anything tonight?"

"_No, I'm afraid not_."

Miss Pauling shouted, "Why the hell didn't you say so, you pathetic excuse for an employee?! What terrible service! I can assure you that we won't order anything from Alfredo's ever again!"

She hung up immediately. She thought to herself, "Maybe we should go for some Chinese food. I wonder if they can whip up some orange chicken with mustard and Tabasco sauce."

TO BE CONTINUED...


End file.
